Illusions of Another Life
by InMyEyes2014
Summary: When Captain Hook comes across a peasant woman and who he assumes is her son, he feels drawn to her and wants to help her find a better life. Little does he know she is a princess who just wants to find who she is again. Can a pirate find true love with a princess who is destined to rule the kingdom and holds secrets of her own? Or is their love an illusion of another life?
1. Chapter 1

**_So this idea has been tumbling through my head all summer. I have it completely planned and much of it written. I had thought I wouldn't post it until the next hiatus. However, I sense we have a bit of angst coming on the show and thought this might be good therapy._**

 ** _I have not forgotten my other fics. I will be posting the final chapter of Flirting, Fraud, and Other Bar Crimes later this week. But I thought I would post this first chapter for you all here and see if there is any interest. Obviously this is a divergence from the show. No curse, but much of the rest is the same. You'll see…_**

When word came to the palace in Misthaven that King George was dying, Emma could see the torn and pained expression on his face as he delivered the news to his wife. It was not a loving or a concerned feeling that overwhelmed him. That much Emma knew, as the relationship between the two was strained one that was based more on political power and less on love of father and son. She'd heard her royal parents speak of someone named James and dragons as they retired to their chambers to discuss their next course of action.

"He's the heir to throne," some of the staff whispered loud enough Emma to hear. "This kingdom is Snow's, but that one is even bigger."

The blonde princess lingered at the dinner table, ignored by hustle of the staff and attention thrown at her younger brother Leo. Stealing away into the kitchen, Emma winked at the young dish girl, who was just about eight years old – same as her brother – and grabbed a plain piece of bread as she snuck out the side door toward the lake where she and her friend Elsa used to skate as children. The ice was gone now, the beginnings of spring sprouting up among the rocks and landscape. She loved spring at the castle, the soft winds blowing through open windows and the promise of warmer days that started out so cool and stark.

Slipping past the pasture where she had first learned to ride a horse under her mother and a stable hand's watchful eye, she paused briefly at the fencing field where her father had helped her brandish her first sword. She knew that others lived much more quaint lives, but to her the opulence of the palace was home. She had grown up playing at her parents' feet in chambers. Her first steps had been down the long corridor long since used for the royal family to gather in before appearances. Her parents had shown her the night's blanket of stars from their balcony window where she had been presented to the people in a formal naming ceremony when she was only days old. Each corner of it carried a memory, a feeling, a longing that she could not quite explain. She had missed it while she was away and felt its pull now more than ever.

She crumbled the bread in her hands, tearing off tiny chunks to toss to the two Swans that had already found their way back from their winter homes. Majestic and white, the two birds floated on the glassy lake, straining out their necks to catch the offerings from her hands. She watched for them for a moment longer, the hem of her gown bunched in the dirt and staining with its darkness. Perhaps her mother would lecture her over such a thing, wasteful of their beautiful things.

Such a lecture would be a relief, Emma thought. It would mean the end of the silence and the polite chatter that seemed to punctuate their relationship now. It would do nothing to stop the disappointment though. She wasn't sure how to make that go away, especially with her father whose eyes always looked so sad now when he saw her.

She might have pondered the situation longer had she not heard the footsteps of children approaching, their joyful conversations echoing among the trees as they spoke of some game they were playing. They were clearly from the local academy, a school that housed students for much of the year. Emma had visited it once or twice herself with her former tutors.

"Milady, I didn't realize anyone was here," stammered the only adult among the bunch. "We aren't on palace ground are we?" He looked panicked as he scanned the tree line for evidence as to their location.

Smiling kindly, Emma held her hand up as if to stop the panic. "You are, but it is quite alright. My father and mother are big proponents of education. They should be glad to see such a group on their land."

"We won't disturb anything," he assured her, motioning to the children to line up. They each stared at her in awe, an appearance by one of the royal family a rare sight. The young princess even more rare.

"I'm sure you won't, but it is quite alright," she said, excusing herself to steal back along the path to the palace. She knew she had overstayed.

***AAA***

The burn of the amber liquid in the glass was almost as familiar as the quaking feeling in his legs at sea. Killian Jones was an avid drinker and sailor both. Lifting the drink to his lips again, he welcomed the sensation on his tongue and the fuzziness to his other senses. It was late and he wasn't even sure which port they had docked in the day before. Still relishing the freedom of having left Neverland, he was sure that his own identity was not yet up to the reputation he had previously built. It had been more than 200 years of plotting and waiting, only to find himself without allies in the world. All had died and life moved on from the time when he was last there, none of the new faces even remembering the stories of him.

"The inn keeper would like a word with you, Captain," his first mate said with a nod to a gray haired woman behind the counter. Her stern look was formidable, but Killian was sure that it was merely a façade for a gentle kindness that most of his elderly interactions had provided. She looked a bit drawn and pale, coughing into a linen handkerchief that seemed above her station. "Probably something about the payment of the rooms."

Killian had captained the Jolly Roger for as long as most people could remember and then some, his hands on approach earning him the respect of the fellow buccaneers. He left nothing to chance and controlled his every move with grace and precision whether it was navigating treacherous waters or managing the supplies aboard ship. Nothing was ever a surprise to him, which was the way he liked it. He was aware that rooms in Mist Haven's outer villages was scarce, as were good hiding places for treasure and loot. Still, he found himself comforted by the familiar sights of a place he had last seen nearly 25 years ago on a scavenging mission for a young but vigilant leader in Neverland.

The pirate slammed the mug down on the table and ignored the groaning protests of his crew that thought he was leaving. A bit more unsteady on land, he sauntered toward the bar and flashed a dazzling white smile at the older woman. She did not respond in kind. "Milady," he said, more formally and with more poshness than was needed in the situation. "You summoned me?"

"You and your boys can't be staying here too much longer," she said, coughing again. "They royal family's due through here in a few days. Can't be having pirates hanging about with the family." She readjusted her glasses on her nose. "So you'll be…"

"On our way within a day or two, milady," he winked at her and then at her granddaughter who was delivering drinks to another table. The raven haired beauty was a few years older than most of the women who worked in such establishments, but her body showed none of the years.

Killian rejoined his crew at the long table, ignoring the glares from the men and admiring looks from the women. As the night grew later he would surround himself with a few of the lovely ladies who would surely wish to keep him company, but for now he was content on his own.

***AAA***

Emma woke the next morning with the scent of breakfast tickling at her nose. While protocol called for her to have breakfast with her father and brother in the dining room, since her return to the castle a few years earlier that ritual had been dropped. She was often served in her room just as the other married women of her station. She would sip at tea as her maids selected her outfits and nibble on pastries as Johanna, her former governess detailed the schedule for the day.

She half expected the announcement of another royal ball to come soon, another chance for her to be shown to society as potential marriage material. While there were a few blemishes to her reputation, her father and mother ruled one of the largest kingdoms in the land. That power alone made many a man salivate at the idea of marrying her. The thought of it also left her uneasy.

Wrapping herself in her dressing gown, Emma sat on the overstuffed settee in the corner of her room and lifted the lid on the plate of food that some unnamed servant had left her. The plates were always too full, including fruits, meats, cheese, and a few sugary pastries that would not agree with her thin frame. Usually she sent it back barely touched, asking that some of the servants' children be allowed to feast upon it rather than it go to waste.

She was trying to decide what to eat when the sweet faced Johanna entered the room, apologizing for having slammed the door accidentally. Her short stature and wide waist gave the illusion of a ball rolling as she hurried toward the princess. "Your mother has been detained," she announced from across the table, causing the young princess to jump from her thoughts. "She'll be here momentarily, your highness."

Emma recognized the voice immediately, even from the shadows as that of Johanna. The short and square shaped woman had been the governess of the White family for generations, caring for the young ladies until they were old enough for children of their own. When Emma's mother had married the prince of a neighboring kingdom and become a Nolan, she had sought the assistance of the kindly woman who had been an integral part of her own life.

"She's a trifle excited," the woman continued, stepping into the room that was designated as Emma's dressing area. "Quite a plan she has for you and your little brother."

Resisting the urge to grimace, the princess bowed her head in thanks for the message and settled further onto the settee in the corner of the room as the older woman detailed that most of that day's activities were suspended because of the situation with King George.

Emma knew her mother was often full of plans, whether it was dancing lessons before fencing or quick country jaunts to inspect the well-being of local villagers. They were not necessarily bad ideas, but Emma still felt under her parents' thumbs. Lately the hints had been subtle, but still noticeable that at her age Emma should be considering marriage. The blonde princess hoped that was not her mother's latest message for the day.

The feast spread before Emma would have fed half the castle's staff for a week with an abundance of buttery pastries and finely cut fruits layered trays around the eggs and thick slabs of meat. She was picking at one of the items when her mother entered the room.

"Good morning," the woman with raven hair said as she sashayed around the table to kiss her daughter's upturned cheek. "You look lovely."

Emma missed her mother's warmth that she had not seen in the past few years. The uneasy truce having settled over them was not that comfortable. Even with her naturally golden hair and fair complexion, she always felt a bit inferior to her mother who was known throughout the lands as the most beautiful woman. While Emma was pretty, her mother was strikingly beautiful. "You wanted to see me?" Emma asked, taking a crumb of the pastry into her mouth.

Snow's mouth turned up with the secrecy of plan, excited as a child would be to know something that others didn't. "Your father feels it is necessary that we see to things with King George," the queen announced with a sweet familiarity that overrode protocol. "It will take us several days to get there and I'm not sure that it is necessary that you and your brother should be made to accompany us. He's a bit rambunctious still."

Leo had been described by many around the castle as the royal terror. A surprise and late in the marriage baby, the young boy had both his parents wrapped around his pinky. He was always glowing with mischief. Having been born premature, he was still somewhat small for his age, but made up for it with a quick wit and a daring personality.

"We'll be fine here," Emma said, realizing that her mother must mean to leave her in charge of her brother's care.

"That's what I thought too," the young queen said, holding her hand out to pat her daughter's forearm. "I had thought that perhaps you would be happier here, but then word came just this morning of another situation."

There was a darkness to her mother's words that reminded Emma of her childhood when the threat of her mother's step-mother loomed over them. There were days when Emma was sent into hiding and fears that the woman who had once ruled with dark magic would somehow regain control of the kingdom. She almost asked her mother if something had happened with the former queen. Was she again a threat?

"It's Red and Granny," her mother said, discontinuing thoughts that the kingdom was under possible siege. "Granny's taken ill and Red is concerned that she is doing too much."

Emma nodded thoughtfully. Red was her mother's oldest and dearest friend, a commoner with a wild streak that seemed far too ordinary to be friends with a royal. However, Red's early loyalty to Snow during a trying time and her devotion since had earned the granddaughter of an inn keeper a place at the hand of the queen. It also did not hurt that Red had amazing tracking skills and was often called upon in times of crisis for her expertise. Granny was just as fearsome, though quite elderly at this point. She looked like a mild mannered woman with her soft gray hair and knitting always nearby.

"She's been so good to us," her mother continued with a gentle nod of her head as she clearly thought more on the topic. "I was thinking to repay the favor." Red had spent nearly a year at the castle with the royal family when the queen was expecting her second child. While there were staff members and professionals, it was Red who had done much of the heavy lifting and made sure that the birth of young Leo was both healthy and happy time for the family.

"I'm sure that she would be grateful," Emma said, biting into a piece of the fruit on her fork. Her mother adored the fresh fruits that were delivered to the royal residence. Her one exception was apples, which she referred to as the devil's fruit. Thinking that her mother meant to send her father on his own and that she would go to see to her friends, Emma wasn't sure that there was much to say about the plans. She would gladly watch her brother and allow her parents the time to complete the needed tasks.

"Your brother though…it would be hard for him to be at either location," the queen said thoughtfully of the young boy who followed his father around with boundless energy. "I would not feel right to leave him under only Johanna's watchful eye, send him with you, nor to bring him. It is a quandary that has perplexed me."

"I can see that might be a problem," Emma answered, not sure what her mother might be getting at with this visit. "Wait? Bring him with me? Where am I to go?" Usually she saw both her parents before the midday meal and again when they addressed court in the afternoon. Other calls were not often made due to increasingly busy schedules and demands.

"I was hoping you might be willing," Snow said, finally letting down her formality a bit as she ducked her head guiltily. It was much to ask the young princess, as it would probably be more help to send a professional or at least one of the married women at the castle. "You would be such a comfort to her. I can understand if you don't wish to go. What with everything that happened with Baelfire and…"

Her throat felt tight as her mother's words sank over her and enveloped her in a memory she would rather forget. She let her long lashed lids flutter shut as she considered the implications of the request and trembled at the very thought of such a task. "If you think it is best," she said in a soft voice. "I'll be happy to go."

Relief was evident on the queen's face as she gathered her skirts before reaching out to grab her daughter's hand. "Oh thank you, Emma," she said with her trademark smile. "I knew that I could count on you to care for my friend and her grandmother. It will be a great adventure for you to be away from home for such a long time."

The thought of being away did appeal to the young woman, her own smile growing stronger as she considered it. In that village few if any of the people would recognize her. She could blend in and have a taste at the life of real people before her family lost patience with her inability to find a suitable husband. Maybe this would delay it for a while longer.


	2. Chapter 2

**_It looks like I'm getting some interest on this story so I will go ahead and publish chapter two. Thank you to those who have followed this story, favorited already, or left feedback and reviews._**

The Lucas cabin was not anywhere near the size of the palace, but it was a cozy home for the two women within walking distance of the inn and pub that they ran in one of the smaller villages. Nearly an 18 hour trek from where Emma had grown up, the family rarely visited and preferred to quarter and entertain the two women in a more royal location.

Red was standing in the doorway waiting for them, her thick dark hair cascading around her, as was her trademark red cloak that Emma knew she would wear for the duration of their stay. It had not been that long ago that Emma had been told of Red's other persona, her ability to turn into a wolf. The very idea had scared her until she saw it firsthand. However, the woman never intended to scare anyone and usually kept the protective cloak that prevented such transformations on her while she dealt with children like Leo.

"Aunt Red!" he called, flinging himself out of the carriage and into her waiting arms. She scooped him into a hug, grunting inelegantly at how big he had gotten.

Snow was next, kissing her friend's cheek and whispering something before the king was given a chance to greet the woman. It was only Emma who hung back, her nature of observing becoming quite obvious. She could see from her vantage point that Red looked quite drawn and tired, deep set circles under her eyes. From the letter that had arrived, it sounded as though the woman had become ragged looking after the inn and her grandmother both. When Emma's father asked after the older woman, Red simply smiled and pointed at the road they had just ridden down.

"She's working," the woman said with exasperation. "I tried to tell her not to but you know how she is. She'll work until the undertakers carry her out." Realizing what she had said, she shot the king an apologetic look.

"You take after her," Snow said, linking her arm through her friend's as the family entered the home. "Stubborn, both of you." There was a bit of chastising smugness in the queen's voice that was quickly brushed aside by her friend.

"Our bags," Emma muttered to her father, pointing at the wagon that followed their carriage. "Is it…"

"Perfectly safe," Red announced, twirling around to meet the younger woman's eyes. "You'll find that no one much comes around here. Except egg and chicken thieves." The two dark haired women giggled over that for some reason. "You'll have to watch yourself in town, but here in the country. You're safe. Between the solitude of this place and rumors about what goes on here, it's unlikely you'll see another soul."

Her mother nodded in agreement. "It's a peaceful life, Emma," she said, squeezing her friend's arm a bit tighter. "I love it here. And don't bother whispering. Red and her grandmother can hear like nobody you've ever met." Emma seemed to recall that from when the two women had caught she and Elsa merely discussing plans to sneak out one evening.

Leo was hopping from one foot to another as he stared up at the crossbow that hung over the fireplace. "Are we going hunting?"

Smiling, Red shook her head. "If we get Granny feeling better, maybe she can teach you." She pointed toward the table and told them all to make themselves comfortable around it. While the family shared a meal at least once a day, it had been a long time since it had been such an intimate affair. Ruby even carried out food to the drivers and guards that accompanied them. "I'll never feel right about all those people waiting on me. Better that it's you. You're used to it."

The conversation veered into topics that Emma wasn't sure she fully understood, names of people in the past, stories about when her parents were younger. However, she dutifully sat there and attempted to keep her brother from distracting the other adults too much. It had been so long since she had heard her parents laughing, their tenseness becoming a daily part of their lives around her. To see the easy smiles, affectionate gazes, and incidental touches was a bittersweet reminder of what she had lost.

"So your grandmother is expecting us?" King David said, stirring his bowl of soup with his spoon. "I'd think she'd protest the intrusion."

Red hesitated, breaking off another chunk of bread for Leo. "I told her that the two of you wanted some time alone and that Emma and Leo would be staying with us for a few days." Her smile was not as bright as it was before. "I'm sorry to hear about your father, David, but I thought…"

"Emma will be a great help to you," the queen said reassuringly, not quite meeting her daughter's curious gaze. "This will allow you to get some rest and Granny too. You both need that."

***AAA***

Granny watched suspiciously as the dark haired pirate tossed a shiny gold coin onto the counter. "I thought I told you to be gone," she said sternly, her hand darting out to snatch at the money before someone else did. "I saw the royal carriages go by not more than an hour ago."

"I have already sent most of my crew on," Killian answered sweetly. "You would barely even know that we're here."

Not quite sure that she understood why it was taking so long, she glared at what most would assume to be a charming smile. "I mean for you to be gone not partially gone."

"Of course, milady," the man answered, the thud of his hooked hand loud against the metal edge of the wooden bar. His hook was loose in the brace, something else he'd have to address. Not even flinching, he dislodged it and shoved it into the pocket of his coat. "If we could set sail today, we would. However, your best merchants were not able to procure the new sail I need in time. It should not be more than a day or two in delay. And as I said, I have removed most of my crew back to the ship. We will only need…"

The older woman added a guttural growl to her grimace. Though not scared of too many creatures on land or sea, the woman's reaction gave the pirate pause and his smile faltered a little bit. "A few days?" she asked with narrow dark eyes.

"Aye, but we could camp toward the edge of town if that is too much of an inconvenience."

"Be gone with you," the woman said after telling him she might have to charge more for the inconvenience but he could keep the few rooms that he had rented. "I don't have time for my staff to be enthralled by your wild tales of the sea. There must be something for you to do in town."

***AAA***

It was customary for ladies to take afternoon naps, but Emma quickly realized that such a luxury was not really afforded to women outside the aristocratic walls of the palace. Even her mother was gathering eggs and sweeping the floors with a thatch broom in her elegant gown. Though she had never really done such things, Emma had spent enough time in the kitchens and servants' areas that she knew the processes and followed suit. She fetched the water, checked on the fence that kept the cows out of the small garden that the women tended, and helped fill the straw mattresses that she and her brother would use in the main room of the cabin.

When Ruby declared that they were all in need of a break, Emma was immensely grateful. She had not been a child for several years, but the allure of her brother's freedom seemed to be strong as she tried not to completely collapse on one of the unpadded chairs. Leo had avoided the work that Emma and her parents had performed, wandering off along the creek that eventually ran into a river to collect rocks and twigs that he proclaimed he would turn into his own house someday.

"You'll have your own palace," King David had explained as he mended one of the sections of fence that Red had said was weak. "You won't need to build a house." He looked affectionately at his son's exuberant smile.

"Then it will be my summer home," the boy answered back, causing his father to chuckle.

"Perhaps you'll be finished with it when your mother and I return," he told him, looking somewhat disturbed that he was having to say goodbye temporarily to his son. "You will need to watch after your sister while we're gone."

The sandy haired boy considered this for a moment, dropping his collection of building materials at his father's feet. "She won't be in charge?"

The King chuckled brightly, squatting down to be at eye level with his son. "She's older so she will think she is, but your sister can be a bit impulsive and reckless when she is under stress. You must help to keep her in line, son. That's what a gentleman would do. You will help her without her ever knowing it."

The little boy frowned. "But if she doesn't know, then what good is it?" He was getting older, but the idea of doing good without reward was still beyond him.

"That," David said, tapping his son's chest, "is the sign of a gentleman and a leader. You don't have to take credit for everything. You can take joy at knowing you're a good person without the applause and accolades. It's easy to do good things when everyone is patting you on the back, son, but to do it when nobody is watching…that's even better."

***AAA***

The shadows from the trees that surrounded the cabin had not grown too long when Red announced that she would need to carry supplies to the inn for her grandmother. "If I don't, she'll attempt that walk again on her own. It's just too much for her to travel to the farm, carry the supplies back to the inn, and then come back again late tonight. I should go." She looked reluctantly at the scene around them.

David and Leo had found a clearing not far from the house where they sparing with the wooden swords they used for practice as Emma read from one of the books she had packed for the trip. From her spot inside the cozy little keeping room of the cabin, Emma could hear her mother and Red discussing something as the horses rested for the rest of the journey. She had tuned out most of the conversation when she heard their hostess make this statement.

Emma covered her mouth to hide a delicate yawn, closing her book over the leather bookmark. "I could go, if you would like," she said, startling the two women who had clearly forgotten that she was even there. "The fresh air would do me a world of good."

Her mother's mouth opened to protest, but it was Red that spoke up with a gentle reminder that Emma did not yet know her way in the woods.

"I rode the path earlier," Emma said with a little wave of her hand. "I'll be fine. And it will be good practice for me to be of use to you." Her hands smoothed over the traveling dress she wore, a plain blue colored frock that she would normally not wear to call upon the other royal or aristocratic families that her parents were required to visit. However, Snow had insisted that her wardrobe be practical for the trip and reminded her that she was not there as a guest.

"I suppose you're right," the woman said, glancing uneasily at the Queen. "Let me show you where we keep everything. You'll need to make a few stops."

***AAA***

Emma stopped at the small farm on the outskirts of town, as Red had described to her. The fields were freshly tilled and the house still smelled a bit musty from being shut up all winter long, but Emma waited patiently for the man and his wife to gather a few dried herbs that they sold to Granny for the pub that was housed under a few rooms she let for rent.

As a princess Emma was used to people coming to her family to sell things, dress makers coming to her room and measuring her, horses brought for her father's inspection, and even food was delivered according to very specific orders.

"You're a friend of Red's?" the man asked, his tan face almost leathery.

"My mother is," Emma answered, her hand resting on her younger brother's shoulder. Leo had not been about to let his sister go off for an adventure without him. He had scampered after her down the path like a puppy after its mother. While their mother had called out for him to return, Emma had simply waved and then draped an arm over the boy. She wouldn't have minded the company had he been able to stand still. However, he was already bored with the standing about as she conversed with the villagers. Shifting from one foot to the other, he looked ready to bolt.

"The Lucas women are good people," the man said with a nod to his own wife. "Good people, I tell you."

The woman nodded back emphatically. Tying off another bunch of the herbs. "Good people."

"How long you been staying there?" the man asked, reminding Emma of a cow chewing its cud with the way his jaw seemed always in motion.

"Just arrived today," Emma answered, accepting another bunch and placing it in the leathery satchel. "We'll be here a week or two at least."

"Great place to say," he said, not really acknowledging her words. "Were you here for the ruckus?"

"Ruckus?"

"Yes, that group of royals and their entourage. Shook the earth with all those horses and trampled almost everything in their path. No regard for anyone, I tell you. They looked to be heading out toward the Lucas place. Did you see them?"

Emma's hand trembled as she grabbed the next bunch of the sweet smelling herb. "I'm sorry I…"

"Didn't miss a thing, I tell you," the man continued. "I hear they are idiots, every last one of them. That's what happens with royals. They marry their cousins and none of them are quite right." The sneer on his face was almost comical. "Idiots, all of them." He ranted for a few more minutes about political decisions and

Her stomach churning, Emma thanked them and paid what Red had instructed, dashing out onto the path to town before she could replay the man's words about her family.

***AAA***

Red helped her friend with the trunk that was Emma's, hanging a few of the dresses on a nail behind a curtain. It wasn't the wardrobe she was used to at the palace, but it would do as her own space for a little while.

"She seemed quieter," Red mused, holding out a yellow dress to the queen. "Sadder, almost."

"It took quite a toll on her," Snow agreed.

"Any word from him? Baelfire?"

The Queen appeared teary eyed as she told of the man's disappearance. "It's the oddest thing. One day he was there and then poof. It was as if he was squired away by magic. I understand that he was going to see his father."

Letting the red cape droop a bit around her shoulders, Red shook her head knowingly. "That's all you have to say. Rumpelstiltskin is at the bottom of this. Mark my words." She had been around long enough to know and have a few of her own run ins with the man known as the Dark One. Invincible and immortal, the man was power hungry and ruthless. He'd been alive for centuries. Yet how his son had come back at the tender age of 22, nobody knew. The last known sighting of him had been nearly 200 years before when he was a young lad and his the apple of his father's eye.

"And the other," the Queen's voice cracked. "I could ring his neck for having left her in such a way."

"She no doubt blames herself. I know that Emma has always been headstrong and willful, but she surely feels she disappointed you by running off with him. And now to pretend like it never happened." The Queen looked longingly at her husband speaking to one of the drivers through the window. "Emma deserves a happy ending, but I don't know how to get her to that."

"So much grief for that young girl," Ruby echoed.

***AAA***

"I should have it ready by tomorrow," the man said, lifting the silver colored hook up to inspect it. Looks to be a simple fix, but it will require some effort. And I've got two of the king's horses to reshod before I can even think about it."

Killian thanked the man, wincing at the feel of his arm without its near constant accessory. He missed the weight of it, the feeling that all was not lost when he had lost his hand. More than that, he missed the sensation that he felt when people stared, that intimidating fear that was evoked by letting it fall into the sight line of some would be foe. The intrigue it raised wasn't bad either. He had lost count at the number of women who asked him about it, rubbing suggestively along its curve as they spoke.

Making his way along the dirt path from the bakery to the blacksmith, he felt the warm spring wind blowing a bit sharper and could smell the scent of fresh rain on the way. His father had once told him that the scent of rain was always perceptible at least 20 minutes before a storm, one of the few things that the man had ever bothered to teach him all those years ago. The rest of his memories of his father could be summed up simply as abandonment.

The woman from the bakery was still smiling at him, the laces of her dress a bit looser as she bent forward to give him a view. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her blatant attempt, knowing that he was not in short supply of willing women. But like much of his existence, they were simply distractions from his tasks and worth very little after a few physical appreciations. So being the man that he was, he gifted her with a smile and nod before returning to the task of finding someone to repair the metal bracket of his brace. It was odd enough to not be in his usual leathers and black, as he had left most of that for the crew to wash while he saw to other matters. He was sure he almost looked like his naval days in the cream colored pants and a simple matching shirt. He had not bothered with a waistcoat or cravat, as he had no intention of attracting or charming anyone.

His one hand reached out to brush against the leather brace, a habit he had not ever given up after all these years. He'd had his hook in place of a hand for longer than he cared to remember. It's cold steel the result of an underestimation when it came to dealing with the Dark One. The pain of losing his hand was an ache that still pulsed at times, but greater still was what else the leathery faced man took from him. The hook was more than a weapon, more than a tool. It was part of him now, an appendage same as any other. The lightness of his left arm felt odd without the weight of it.

He might have considered that more as he walked along if the fat raindrops he had predicted did not start to fall at just that moment. It was in those first few drops that he realized he had left his coat at the blacksmith's as well, having felt too hot near the fire to stand the heaviness of the leather. He would retrieve it later, he thought as he continued along. The few people on the path scattered like rats and he scanned for a doorway or overhang himself. That was when he saw her, the pale haired woman with a young lad, who could not have been more than six. Her flaxen hair was damp from the rain but it did nothing to hide the sharp features of her face. She was leaned forward, securing a pack to the boy's shoulder, unaware that she was being observed. As she straightened, she pushed back her wet hair and leaned against the building that housed some sort of professional office.

The young boy whipped past Killian with a word from the woman about going to straight to Granny's, his small feet splattering the pirate with a puddle of water. And even with his fast pace, Killian could see that the lad shared features with her from the cut of his dimpled chin to the fresh green of his eyes that seemed to mimic waving grass. As Killian stepped closer to the woman he could not help but notice how young she seemed, her skin not marred with years of field work and drudgery. Assuming that she must be the lad's mother, he appraised that she had been a young bride herself and probably had two more at home just like him. However, he noticed there was no ring on her hand and no line where one had been recently.

"Good day to you," he said when he was within speaking distance, giving her a bit of a bow that seemed over the top. "You have found one of the few dry spots I see."

She regarded him suspiciously, clearly startled to be addressed in such a way. "I see you weren't as lucky." Her eyes were scanning him, seeing the way the water was matting his hair.

His eyes were the bluest she had ever seen, rimmed with thick dark lashes that matched his equally striking hair. There was something both inviting and naughty about his smile, as if he might be able to read her inner most thoughts, lines crinkling around his eyes his eyebrows arched suggestively. She found herself feeling quite flushed just considering his features.

"Pleasure," he said, his head bowing toward her as he brushed the back of her hand with his lips briefly. "I hope you are not too inconvenienced by the weather."

Her mouth gaped open as he stepped back, his right hand lingering on hers for a moment longer than necessary. "It's fine," she stammered, trying to recall why she was even there in the small village. "I'm Emma." It seemed such a simple name as she said it, a shorter version of a long string of names given to her to celebrate her heritage. Just four letters to sum up her existence, the name felt easy coming off her lips.

"Emma," he repeated, softly saying the name as though he might be trying to memorize it. "I'm Killian." He had not introduced himself as such in years, preferring the fear that his moniker of Captain Hook parlayed. Truthfully, he had not heard anyone call him by his given name in years, his moniker having grown into more than a nickname. Sometimes he wondered if anyone really knew who he was other than a fearsome pirate with an enchanted ship. He wondered if he remembered himself.

"The lad seemed in a hurry."

Her face turned from the man in front of her to stare through the drops of rain at the inn at the end of the street. "We wanted to get the herbs and other things to Granny before she came looking for them," she explained, squinting to watch her little brother duck into the building with the older woman holding out a towel for him.

"A good granddaughter you are then," Killian said with a wink that seemed more habitual than planned. "I would have avoided the weather myself if I was a lovely young lass such as yourself."

Having grown up as she did, she was not used to men so bold as Killian. Most of the men who had approached her had been more apt to impress her father to win her favor. The lone exception being Baelfire. She smiled weakly at the man, noticing the dark smudges on his face from where the rain had smeared the kohl he often wore around his eyes. To her it appeared the evidence of a hardworking man and not that of someone intent upon intimidating his foes. "Granny is important to me," she answered finally.

"As I said, you're a good granddaughter and she is a lucky woman." There was a question in his voice as he said it, as if he wanted to say more but was unsure how she might take it. She was younger than he would have thought to have a young lad of her own, but that did not matter to him. While she was dripping with rainwater, she was certainly beautiful. Her hair thick and probably with natural wave as he saw it flowing down her back. It was unusual to see a young woman of any status wear her hair down, but he liked the effect that it had by creating a softness and innocence about her. "Your boy is alright on his own?"

She looked a bit startled by the question, which he couldn't quite understand with the circumstances. "Uh…he's…"

"I suppose he is anxious to prove his independence," the man said with a chuckle. His whole chest seemed to move with the laugh, which drew her eyes to way the shirt was a bit too unbuttoned and the thin fabric clung to his muscles. "I know at his age I was desperate for people to see me as more than a nuisance who followed his older brother about."

Drawing in a breath, she tried not to read too much into the man's words, studying the weather instead. The steady downpour seemed unwilling to let up, water splashing up from the ground and dotting the skirt of her dress. It was just a travel dress, thin cotton over layers of muslin with a few simple buttons and no ruffles or lace. "I think I should go to him," she said, eyeing the sky carefully as if it might give some sort of timetable for her best chance of an escape. "It seems to be letting up."

Just as the words left her mouth, the rain fell at a heavier pace, obscuring even the view of the inn through the curtain of water. Killian smiled at her as one would a deranged person. "I wouldn't recommend it. The lad is safe enough with the Widow Lucas. She'll let no harm come to him. She is your 'granny' is she not?"

Emma realized the truth behind his words, as the woman was probably more capable of a caregiver than half of the castle staff. She would not let Leo goad her into candies and sweets as he did with Snow and Johanna. Knowing Granny, she was already fitting him for a broom to do floor duty in the pub. "She's everyone's grandmother," Emma said pointedly, not wanting to stake claim to a family that wasn't her own. "But yes, she is probably having him unpack that satchel now. He'll have a blast until we go home."

"And where is home?" he asked, picking up on the signs that her eyes lit with something akin to pride when she spoke of the boy. "In this village?"

Maybe it was the fatigue of travel but she answered quite vaguely that she was living in a cabin not far from town. The realization that he did not notice her royal insignia on the necklace she wore was both intriguing and comforting in a strange sort of way. It was as though he could see past it, see her as a woman instead of a title.

"I suppose you will head back soon then," he said, clearly reaching a bit to continue the conversation. She was not offering much in return but still he trudged forward. "I was hoping you might share a drink with me at the pub. I'm sure your grandmother would not mind watching the lad for a bit if…"

Emma's smile fell, knowing that a drink with a man was out of the question for someone like her. She had heard Red speak of such encounters, but she had yet to experience them herself. The very thought made her a bit nervous. "I'm afraid not," she said softly.

If he was taken aback by her rejection, he did not show it. Lifting her hand, the left one this time with his right, he paused. "I didn't see a wedding ring. Was I mistaken?"

"I'm not married," she answered quickly, not sure why it mattered to her so much that he know she was not attached. "I'm…"

"I'm sorry," he said, the two words not coming easily to a man who rarely apologized. "I shouldn't have been so forward." He looked out toward the muddy roadway and knit his brow together thoughtfully. "I don't even have my jacket to lay across that puddle for you, love."

She half laugh and half scoffed at his words. "You are not required to be a gentleman to me, sir." She hated that aspect of her life, the fake sincerity of people, the manners that they did not really mean. Killian had seemed so bold before, so real.

"Oh but I'm always a gentleman," he said, again winking the one eye. "I could see about a wagon for your trip home to make it easier. I know someone at the livery."

"We will be fine," Emma said. "It was nice to meet you, Killian."

***AAA***

"This weather is dreadful," Granny announced when she saw Emma enter the kitchen door. "Not fit for man out there."

Emma bunched the blonde hair over one shoulder and she twisted it as dry as she could with her hands. "I like the rain when I can sit and read in the library," she announced, wistfully considering the last time she had been there. "It's peaceful to hear it against the window."

"Well," the older woman huffed, one hand on her hip and the other stirring a large pot of something, "it isn't peaceful here. Rain means mess. I'll spend all evening mopping up these floors after the scoundrels drag in the mud."

The woman fussed over Emma as much as she could, offering her food and drink that the princess refused. Even through the careful attention, Emma could see the tiredness on Granny's face. There were dark circles under her eyes and a haze to her usually clear complexion. Twice the princess saw the woman teeter as though her balance was not as it should be. "Where did you stuff Leo?" Emma asked, following the woman into the storage pantry that rivaled many of the servants' bedrooms at the palace. "He's too quiet."

Again the elderly woman smiled knowingly at the young woman and pointed with her elbow at the boy. He was kneading a bit of dough that she had broken off for him. His small but sure hands were making shapes out of it as though it were clay.

"I'll have to remember that trick," Emma said, fascinated that something had caught her brother's attention so well. "He's usually into everything."

"Did someone say something to him?"

Emma turned her body from the shelves of jarred vegetables and dry goods. "People here in town don't seem to like our mother and father so much. I thought…I thought they were loved and revered. People who come to the palace all speak so highly of them."

The Widow Lucas was never accused of being overly affectionate, but she pulled the princess into a hug. "That's what happens when people come to power. We admire them for the struggle and then tear them down in the reality. Sad really. But don't you worry. There are still plenty of people who love and adore those parents of yours. They are good people. Good leaders. And you'll be just like them someday. A loud noise from the dining area caught the attention of the proprietress, her skirts swishing as she darted out to check on the status of her furniture and servingware. She gave a few loud directions followed by a foot stomp and she was back in business. "Pirates," she muttered.

"Pirates?" Emma asked, her green eyes widening. "Here?"

The woman's eyes softened and then narrowed on the young lady. "Don't you be getting any ideas. Those men are dangerous and not suitable for the likes of you."

 ** _I would love to know what you are thinking and feeling about this story. What would you like to see? What do you think should happen?_**


	3. Chapter 3

**_I apologize for the delay in this chapter. I had it and the next couple written, but a power outage damaged the file for this one and it had to be rewritten. It didn't turn out quite the same, but I hope you still like it._**

It had not taken long to get Leo to agree to go to sleep once Red had told him that staying on the straw mattresses would be much like camping. Emma would be surprised if he hadn't pulled one out under the stars to enhance the experience. Though she was used to much more plush accommodations herself, she had brushed off the attempts of both women that she could have their beds, repeating what her mother had told her that she was not there as a guest and wouldn't think of putting them out in that way.

Though sleep had come easily for her baby brother, Emma found herself a bit more restless and walked outside into the chilly night air. While the calendar clearly called for spring, there was a coolness once the sun went down that seemed to invigorate the young princess. So that is where Red found her, standing at the newly repaired fence and staring at a moonlit field.

"It's okay to miss them," Red said from behind, startling her. "I'm your mother's age and I miss my mother desperately. I even miss Granny when she is at work for long hours and I'm here or vice versa."

That was a strong confession from a woman who Emma considered the most fearless and resilient of all her mother's friends. "I was just thinking," Emma said, confessing herself that it was not her parents who were on her mind.

"Baelfire?"

The blonde whipped her head around to face the other woman, her thick braid of hair flying with her. "No," she said almost desperately. "He's not returning. I can't…"

Undeterred, Red took her spot beside Emma, not looking at her but at the same pasture. She even mimicked the way the young princess stood, placing both hands on the rough wood of the fence. "Granny said you were a bit shaken by some of the people's opinions about your mother and father. That must have been hard too."

"Granny shouldn't work so hard," Emma said, clearly changing the subject. "She looks weak."

Red's lips pursed together as she tugged on the velvety soft hood of her cape that Granny had made her. "She was sick a few weeks ago, bedridden and barely breathing at times. I truly thought I might lose her. She's recovered, but it isn't the same. I can see it in her, but she's convinced if she rests too long that she will succumb to her fate. Maybe she thinks she can outrun death."

"How can I help?" Emma asked. "I know that my parents sent me here so that you might watch after me and Leo. They…they don't fully trust me after everything. I understand that."

"They do trust you, Emma," the woman said with a sharp edge to her usually tender voice. "Coming here isn't your punishment or banishment. To hear your mother tell it, you've pretty much banished yourself. Why? Because you fell in love with a man who wasn't what they wanted for you? Because you tried to make a life for him when everyone could tell you that it would end in pain? Or because you chose to believe in love beyond all that?"

Emma was silent, a wet tear traced down her face and glistened in the moonlight, but she made not effort to swipe at it or to explain it away. Red had already said more than either of her parents of her time with Baelfire. Incorrect or not, it felt strange to lose the cloak that hid that part of her life.

"When you mother met you father, I can assure you that nobody thought that was a good match or idea. Your father was betrothed to another. Your mother on the run from her step-mother. Who would think that to be a perfect pairing?" The brunette's eyes were fiery and seemed to glow as she spoke. Emma wasn't sure if it was the reflection of the moon or some deep magic.

"What I had with Baelfire wasn't the same as that," she said sadly.

"No, it wasn't, but I don't think you should be ashamed of it. You loved him. And from that…"

"From that, I made a horrible mistake and I'm being punished for that for the rest of my life." Emma grimaced at her forthright confession. She had tried not to think of it that way. Falling in love was supposed to be – if not easy, at least natural. However, that was the last thing she would ever describe her relationship with Baelfire as being. He was the son of the Dark One, a former Lost Boy, and a what had seemed at the time to be a charming and fascinating man. While he had been long before even her grandparents, his time in Neverland had stymied his growth and he had appeared only a few years older than her.

When he had come to her one night, climbing through her window with panic in his demeanor, he had begged her to run away with him to a land without magic or the threat of his father. She had agreed to go, pushing down the guilt over the idea of leaving her family and her kingdom. However, when she arrived at their meeting place, he was no where to be found. A few weeks later she had learned she was with child, a great scandal had the news gone public.

"I would hope that you would find some comfort staying with us and not view it as a punishment," Red said. "I know your parents don't mean it that way."

"How could they not?" Emma asked, suddenly incredulous to the idea that this was not some sort of reparation. "If the people of the kingdom knew, it could have destroyed everything. My parents would not have been able to rule. The whole family would have been scandalized."

Red knew from her talks with Snow that Emma was not likely accept affection. Her inward turning personality had become such that she was reluctant to hug or even touch. It seemed a shame, the woman thought, as Emma had been a loving child who snuggled on her father's lap for a story and held tight to her mother's hand when she was feeling shy. That wasn't often though, Emma had been talkative and creative, a sweet and good natured child who never met a stranger. Now she seemed timid and almost as a fawn in the morning light. "But it didn't turn out that way. You didn't do anything…"

"I did," Emma said, her temper showing through a bit. "And I worry each day that it will catch up with me."

Not able to resist the urge, Red patted the younger woman's arm soothingly. "You have nothing to fear here. People don't know you. The last time you were here, you were only 13. Nobody will recognize you from that. You can be whomever you wish to be."

***AAA***

"Captain?" Smee called through the partially open door. Having served with Killian for more than a few lifetimes, the man knew better than to barge in without warning. First, Captain Hook had a terrible temper and was likely to bite his head off at the instruction. Secondly, it was likely that the man was not alone. Smee could guess that the granddaughter of the innkeeper might be in there. Though a tad older than his usual type, the Captain did have a penchant for brunettes, especially saucy ones with mouths on them. However, she had not been in that day. Or it could be the barmaid with the lighter brown hair and amazing eyes. Or perhaps…Smee paused realizing the list could be endless.

"Enter," Killian called out without too much of a delay. He was alone, the linens he had worn that day in the rain hanging over a chair near the fire. The deluge of water seemed to be letting up, but still the damp chill in the air was evident as were the droplets of water that dripped from his head and onto the blanket he had covered himself with for company.

"You're alone, sir," the man said in confusion at the bed that was unusually empty on one side.

"Aye, and did that need to be brought to my attention?"

"No sir," the shorter man stammered. "I only meant that…I'm glad I didn't…"

"Out with it," Killian glanced toward the window at the lamplit street as a woman hurried through the rain to one of the buildings. She seemed soaked and cold with her arms wrapped tightly around herself to ward off the wind that always seemed to blow sharply off the water. For a moment the woman's blonde hair reminded him of Emma, but he shook off the feeling as he could count the differences. This woman was a bit thinner, her nose wider, her chin without the small indentation as far as he could see. Emma's hair was thicker and brighter – even when wet.

"The sails, sir," Smee began, the nervous weight shift a trademark of his machinations when giving bad news. "The seamstress who made the last set was a bit under the weather."

"So find another," Killian said, his eyes rolling upward with frustration. He was a hands on captain, but there was no need for this level of detail. "She can't be the only person capable of such a task."

"The sails are not normal ones," Smee reminded him, biting his lip in the process. "Your brother procured the first ones, but we've tried to…"

The remnants of the memory of his brother's excited voice telling him of the Pegasus wings echoed in his head. The curly haired and kind eyed man who had raised him was dancing through this thoughts, reminding him of such words like honor and service. "I'm aware of their rarity," he said with as firm a voice as he could muster. "But surely there must be someone else who can do the job."

"They have to be enchanted with a spell," Smee explained, sounding apologetic for this predicament despite his not actually being responsible. "I am trying to find another enchantress who might…"

"Her condition is not improving?" Killian asked, unsure as to why this was such a big deal. The woman was sick. She could be better soon and they would be on their way. It was a simple fix.

"Alas she is with child," Smee confided. "It seems to have curtailed her abilities a bit."

The reaction from Killian was to almost jump with the surprise of that as the issue at hand. He had not even considered that to be a problem. "Very well," he said, thinking through the situation. "I would rather not reveal this information. Perhaps we should stay on until we find a good enough enchantress. There must be someone."

***AAA***

Red dropped a few pieces of bread, a ball of the freshly churned butter, and a sweet tea cake into the soft napkin and tied up the sides carefully. Granny had already left for the day, insisting that any dizziness she felt was nothing to be excited about. She had trudged down that now familiar path, having given Red instructions for preparing a plot of ground for the garden. Seeds would have to be planted soon, before the next new moon. And that meant plenty of work around the cabin.

"Are you sure he won't be under foot?" Emma asked as she emerged from the bedroom for the second time that morning. "I don't know what I can do, but I do want to help."

"You'll be more help to me by keeping an eye on Granny. She's already left. You can go and help out at the inn today. That's where we need you. And Leo is no bother. He'll be fine." Red dropped the bundle in front of the blonde woman and reached out to help her finish her hair. Originally, Emma had emerged from the room in a soft lavender gown. While it was not fancy by any means, it was too delicate for a woman to wear to work in an inn. Red had replaced the dress with one of her own, still soft and lovely with a pattern of faded blue forget-me-nots and simple buttons up the bodice.

"There's an apron you can borrow by the door," Red continued, critically evaluating the dress on the young princess's form. "And you should probably do something about your hair. It's beautiful but not really what someone working at the inn would wear."

Emma had twisted her hair into braids that were wound intricately onto her head like thick blonde crown. Red helped her unwind it and reposition the tresses as a single braid down her back. Proclaiming it suitable, the dark haired beauty kissed her friend's daughter on the cheek. "You don't have to do this."

Emma pulled her hair over one shoulder and grabbed the napkin bundle of food. "If I'm not here out of some punishment, then I am here to be of assistance to you and Granny. The least I can do is run a few errands and sweep a few floors. It's not an inconvenience."

"I suppose it is a good thing that nobody knows your identity here," Red mused, a hand on her hip. "It would be a spectacle to have a crown princess serving pints."

***AAA***

Emma wasn't sure why the barmaid seemed to have taken a disliking to her, but the woman did not like her at all. Maybe it was the fact that they were the same age but had different lives. The woman was unmarried like Emma but had moved from her mother to make her fortune any way that she could. She had limp and dirty looking brown hair with hazel eyes that seemed almost yellow in certain lights. Other than saying her name was Lily, the woman had given her no details about herself.

"When you're done with these you can start on the potatoes," the woman had sneered, barely bothering to look at her.

Granny had disappeared down to the butcher shop about the same time that Emma had arrived. The proprietress, well aware of the purpose of Emma being there, had told her to help the barmaid out and that they would talk later. So Emma was assigned to wash the glasses before the pub got busy. Once finished, she was pointed toward the largest pile of potatoes that she had ever seen, even bigger than the ones delivered for large dinners at the palace.

Granny had lit the fire in the oven that morning and placed in it cast iron pans with various fish to be baked and smoked for storage. The stench was overwhelming to the princess, but Lily seemed to find that fact amusing. The door to the kitchen from the outside was propped open as was the front door to create a bit of ventilation. Usually a frayed and once heavy brocade hung between the kitchen the dining area of the pub, but Granny had pulled it back to dissipate the scent of the fish.

"Don't make a face like that for too long, love," Killian said, startling her from her monotonous rhythm of peeling the potatoes. "It might freeze that way. And that, my dear, would be a shame on a face so beautiful as yours."

She might not have planned to encourage him, but Emma couldn't resist the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth at his playful attention. "I didn't hear you come in," she spluttered as though having taken on water. "I didn't realize you are staying here?"

"Aye, a few more nights at least," he said gesturing to the chair across from hers to ask permission. She gave a nod and he practically dove for it. Careful to keep his left arm below the table, he leaned forward a bit. "So what has you so offended? I swear I did bathe today, had the water brought in by the barmaid and everything."

"It's the fish," she said with a tiny roll of her eyes. "I'm not used to the scent." Again her nose wrinkled with distaste. She had eaten seafood before, but she'd never been in the kitchen for its preparation so the scent was overwhelming.

"An acquired taste, no doubt," Killian answered. "I'm surprised you aren't used to it by now. Fishing village and all."

Emma flushed, Red's instructions that the fewer people who knew of her upbringing and heritage the better. She was poor at lying, though she could certainly detect the less than truthful nature in others. "I suppose it is just stronger than I am used to and being in here has me a bit lightheaded from it."

His usually flirtatious and charming appearance melted into something more akin to concern. "Do you think perhaps that Granny might allow me to take you for a walk? Just to allow you to clear your head."

Baelfire had been the last man who had accompanied her on a walk around the palace grounds, telling her of his plans for the future. She could hear his voice speaking to her, the way her arm had felt linked through his. She could not even imagine such a feeling with anyone else. "I don't think that is necessary," she said.

Obviously a bit wounded by the second rejection, he looked about the square kitchen space. "I am happy to help, Emma. Is there anything I could…"

"You aren't obligated," she told him, abandoning her knife to retrieve another of the buckets of water. "I have work to do and surely you have tasks too." She was giving him an out, which probably would have been easier since he wouldn't have any trouble finding someone else to occupy his time.

"I was hoping to find some way to work myself into the Widow Lucas's good graces," he proclaimed, dropping the potatoes one by one into the water to wash them. His handless arms braced the wooden bucket from the other side so as to hide the missing appendage. Normally he felt pride in his hook, but he doubted that Emma would feel the same. "She has been pushing for me to leave the premises."

Emma had just lifted the knife. "What did you do to incur her wrath?" Emma asked, then flinched. "I'm sorry. Was that too much to ask?"

He chuckled at the pinkness to her cheeks that signaled her embarrassment. She was clearly more spirited that she was attempting to let on, yet she realized the rules of propriety and manners quite well. Not a man who was easily offended, he was more amused by her curiosity than insulted by it. "She had made some statement about the royal family coming and perhaps needing rooms with their no lack of staff and guards."

Had the bucket not shifted and his balance of it not been in jeopardy, he might have taken note that her pink cheeks faded quickly to a ghostly white. "I believe the king and queen have already departed."

"Aye, that's the word I hear too. Took with them a village of drivers, soldiers, and maids to go to whatever holiday spot they picked. Luckily they didn't stay here long, as I am not a fan of such excess myself. It always seems to be used to cover inadequacies of some type." His gentle and teasing smile that he had worn while talking to her earlier was replaced with a sneering contortion that did cause her to pause.

She wasn't sure what to say to him, as he would surely leave if she revealed her identity at that point. It would be easy to get rid of him, she told herself, easy to push him aside. He'd go about his business and she'd finish hers. In a few days or weeks her parents would return for her and she could go back to a life where she only saw the good in them and could forget the harsher remarks of their nature and their rule. But for some unnamed reason, she found herself dreading his departure. "So you must have grown up in this village or one like it to not have my same sensitivity for the smell of fish?"

There was not startled reaction from him for the change in subject. "Not too far from here by ship," he agreed. "I've spent most of my life on the water, traveling here and there."

Emma was grateful that some of that softness had returned to his voice. "I would imagine that such travels have been filled with adventure."

Her eyes did not lift from the careful move of her knife over the potatoes, but he could make out the genuine interest in her voice and the way her eyelids seemed to flutter downward. His tongue darted out over his lips as he considered her statement as more of a question. "I could entertain you with a few remembrances of them, if you should like. It might make the task go faster."

Trying not to look too eager, she nodded her head and listened readily as he spoke of a few of voyages. He was being careful not to tell her of the scarier moments, the battles between pirates or daring escapes from the royal navy. He limited his more salacious tales, but still sprinkled in a few about treasure and mythical things that Emma had never thought truly existed. While the stories seemed unending, she found some comfort in the cadence of his voice and the timbre of the inflection. He was a master at it, keeping to his promise to make the work fly by with rapid speed. She felt both relief and disappointment as the last of the potatoes went into a pot to boil.

Almost as if she had been watching for the moment Emma was free for another task, Lily swooped in to instruct Emma to provide fresh linens to a few of the rooms that were now vacated upstairs just as soon as the last peeling was removed from the table. "I hope I did not bore you with my tales," he said, his eyes twinkling in an unasked question.

"Not at all…" She hesitated, wiping her wet hands on the apron.

"Killian," he supplied, amused that she might not know his name after two meetings.

Her eyes widened as he repeated his name, a laugh tickling her throat to be let out. Yet she swallowed it back. "I know your name, Killian," she said, the pink blush returning even deeper. "I'm just not accustomed to being that familiar with people as to call them by their given names. It takes some getting used to." In her world titles had replaced the names that parents had lovingly bestowed upon their children. She hardly even recognized her own first name any longer other than her parents and their closest friends calling her that.

"Would you rather we call each other by something else then?" His brow furrowed a bit. "I'm not sure I learned your family name? Are you a Lucas as well? Or perhaps…"

It would have been so easy to tell him that he need not address her as anything. She could have simply walked away and never addressed him as anything other than a guest at the inn. "Emma is fine," she said reluctantly.

"Then I should be glad to have you call me Killian," he said just as softly as she had her own name. "I quite like the way you say it."

***AAA***

Emma had been unmistakably busy for the majority of the afternoon. Each time Killian returned from his tasks at the blacksmiths or with some of the suppliers, he found the blonde woman whisked off to perform some other duty. While did not complain for them, he could see the almost insecurity in her movements. She had clearly not been working there long, as a more seasoned employee would not wear the terrified expression he sometimes saw on her face.

Sitting on the bench outside the front door of the inn, he had seen her dash out for a bucket of water, waving off his offer to help her. Still he had appreciated the smile of gratitude she gave him. Watching her hoist the heavy load in her hands, he was again impressed by her fortitude both emotionally and physically. He was still reluctant to show his true nature around her though, as he wasn't sure how she would react to his more unseemly ways.

"I thought I had told you to be gone," Granny told him when she had returned from her own trip to the local suppliers. She had dumped the food she had bought into the kitchen and came outside to catch her breath. The woman had her glasses back on and was peering over the rims of them at him. "And what happened to your clothes."

"I thought your eviction was cancelled given that the royal entourage has departed," he said, his voice and demeanor lazy. "You don't seem to have so many tenants that you can afford to send us all away."

Her mouth drew in as though she had eaten something sour, but she did not respond to his comment. Instead, she watched his eyes travel through the open door to Emma who was lighting candles at the tables for the evening service. "She's a good girl, too good for the likes of you."

He did not bother to act as though he didn't know what they were talking about. "I only aimed to help her," he said, still watching her. "She seemed a bit overwhelmed."

Granny's breathing had not evened out and her skin's pallor was not altogether healthy, but she still made herself appear formidable. "That's not your concern."

He nodded his head. "I realize that, but still I am…"

Rocking back on her heels, she looked back to Emma who was covertly stealing her own glances at Killian as she lit the candles one by one. Even in their dim glow, Granny could make out the twitching at the young princess's lips that was clearly a reaction more to the pirate than the work she was doing. The woman had seen it before, but the concept worried her that Emma might enjoy the man's attentions. Turning her focus back to Killian, she bent at the waist and pinched a bit of the light colored fabric with her finger and thumb. "She the reason you're dressed this way?"

It still startled him to look down and not be greeted by the black leather and fabrics that had made his wardrobe for centuries. He wasn't sure if he could explain it, other than he felt his lighter attire might make her more comfortable to talk to him. "I…"

"You're lying to her," Granny said firmly. "Not a great start, Captain." Her expression did not reveal that she knew Emma was lying too.

"I only meant not to scare her," he said. "I haven't always been a pirate."

***AAA***

Granny had not been eager to accept Emma's help; but true to the instructions that Red had given her, Emma had jumped into any task that needed completing. By the end of the evening she had earned a thank you from the older woman and even a genuine smile from Lily.

"You're not as good as Red," Lily said as she placed two drinks on a tray. "But you're more efficient. She tends to linger at the tables with the more attractive men."

Emma had taken that as a compliment and thanked the woman through a tight mouth. Everything on her felt tight as she tied her cape at her neck and listened to Granny's stern warning to keep to the path and not dally in the woods on the way back to the cabin. "I think I'm going to stay here for the night and not make the trek myself. You'll be fine?"

Reassuring the older woman, she had denied her own tiredness and said she was eager to see her little brother after so many hours away from him. But internally she was wondering if she had the strength to battle the pain in her muscles to make the long walk back to that wooded home. Her steps were already slow and labored and she was only three buildings away from the inn when she heard the steady clomp of a shoed horse behind her. Resisting the urge to groan at the added task of moving out of the way, she turned her head slightly and jumped at the sight.

"I thought you might be tired after your day," Killian said, his hand on the reigns of the horse. "I wanted to offer you a horse to ride back to your boy."

The horse was far from a thoroughbred, its age showing and its gait sagging a bit. Still she could not help but sigh in relief at the idea of sitting atop the mare instead of walking. However, it seemed too much for Killian to offer such an animal. He must have noticed her reluctance.

"The livery owner was about to put her out for the evening and was complaining she had not been properly exercised. I thought I might do him a favor and you one as well." He stood there in front of her, his stance casual and his left arm behind him. "You have ridden before, haven't you?"

She tried not to laugh, as her riding lessons had started practically as soon as she could walk. Her mother had been a champion rider and jumper, but her own awards had come in the form of dressage competitions. Somewhere in the palace was a wall of ribbons and medals that the two women had won in their youths. "I certainly have," she said, hesitating for a moment before lifting herself onto the saddle. The staff at the palace was always telling her to ride side saddle, though her mother had encouraged her to ride astride for better control. She wondered briefly which of the two styles would be more akin to someone not of royal upbringing. However, she quickly decided to follow her mother's lead and threw her leg over the horse's back.

Killian raised a quick eyebrow at her decision, but said nothing and did not hand her the reigns. She let her mouth gape for a moment as he clicked his tongue and led her on horseback through the edges of town toward the path. "She's in my care," he explained. "I can hardly let you take off on her without me. Besides how would I get her back tonight?"

She looked down at him, prepared to lecture him on how she did not need a companion to find her way back to the Lucas cabin. However, she resisted. "I think you have tricked me, Killian. You used my fatigue and this horse as a way to spend time with me."

***AAA***

They talked some on the way back, Emma learning that Killian was well read and could carry a tune as they spoke of music. She had to bite back a few too many responses about her tutoring and lessons, but he did not seem to notice the holes in her responses to him. It was a short trek and when she slid down from the horse's back she smiled brightly at him as though the ride had rejuvenated her as much as the night's sleep would surely do.

"You were very kind to think of me," she said, patting the flank of the horse with the palm of her hand. She could not remember the last time she had been out or been riding without her gloves, but the sensation of being able to feel anything without the layers of something simple like gloves was a welcome change. "I don't know how I might return the favor."

"Your company and conversation are payment enough, love," he said, his hand still tight on the reigns. "But I would not be opposed to a chance to see you again."

"I'm afraid my schedule…"

"Perhaps I could come here tomorrow to walk you to your work." He shifted his weight and appeared as nervous as a schoolboy would in a similar situation.

Red emerged from the house at that time, her own cloak tight around her and her stride quick as she approached them. "Leo's in bed, but he's waiting up for you, Emma," she said, nodding to Killian in recognition. "You should go see him so he'll finally go to sleep."

"Of course," Emma said. "I've missed him today."

Red looked from one to the other, her head lifting a bit as though she was trying to breath in a clue as to what she was witnesses. Slowly she turned and headed back to the house, her demeanor not so sure that she was being followed by Emma.

"You don't have to do that, you know," Emma said, giving the horse a final pat as she backed away from Killian. Her other hand gripped the tie from her cape at the base of her neck. "I am not so delicate that I might find it unsettling."

"Pardon?" he asked, not sure what she meant.

"Your hand," she answered. "You have hidden your left arm from me all day. I am not blind, Killian. I realize you are missing your hand. Perhaps you can tell me about that tomorrow when you come to walk with me."

 ** _Thank you for all the likes, follows, favorites, kudos, and comments. It really does help the confidence in posting my stories._**


	4. Chapter 4

The fire in the large fireplace had waned to crackling embers and the light of a lantern in the corner of the room cast very little light as Emma followed Red into the room. The dark haired woman busied herself with a few tasks as Emma paid attention to the young boy there in front of her. Leo looked up from the straw stuffed mattress with their father's blue eyes at his older sister, his sandy colored hair tousled from his active day. "You came back!"

Emma knelt beside him, her muscles screaming in agony at the sharp movements, but she could barely resist his arms waving at her. "You seem surprised," she said, scooping him into a hug. "I would never leave you for long."

"I didn't know," he said solemnly, cheek to her chest as she rocked him momentarily. "I missed you a lot."

"And I missed you too," she said. "But remember what mama said. We have to be a help to Granny and Aunt Red. I went to help Granny today." She pulled back from him to see the most earnest expression on his face. "I hope you were good for Aunt Red while I was gone."

"I can help too," he promised her. And he continued to come up with ways he could help until sleep overtook his tired and small form. Emma stayed there beside him, soaking in the sight of him.

"So Killian is it?" Red said as Emma backed away from her brother and made her way to the table. The woman had set out two cups of tea. For as long as Emma could remember, Red had been the fun aunt who let her dress up in her clothing and snuck her presents against her parents' wishes. But there in the low light of the room with the tea suspended in midair, Red looked very much like Emma's mother. There were so many times when Emma was growing up that her mother had sat in just such a way and talked to her about the future and expectations.

Unable to think of a way out of the conversation, Emma took the seat across from her. "He saw how tired I was and offered me a way back here," she said quietly.

There a hint of amusement as Red sipped her tea, pausing to see if Emma would further incriminate herself in the silence. "How did you meet him?"

Emma explained about the sudden rain storm and the way he had helped her with the tasks at Granny's, her voice trembling over the words he had called her like beautiful and brilliant. "He seems quite nice," she said, knowing that the description was actually very weak. "And he does such nice things for me even without knowing who I really am."

The dark haired woman considered that for a moment, her lips resting on the rim of the cup. Pulling it back, she spoke very softly. "You truly aren't telling people who you are?"

"It was your idea," Emma reminded her. "People are more accepting or at least more honest about what they think of me without the titles and the formality." That was clearly true beyond Killian, she thought to herself, remembering the unimpressed retorts from Lily.

"You are a princess, the daughter of a king and queen. It's not something you can hide when it is a part of you like this. I didn't want for you to suffer the pangs of public opinion, but to lie about your identity. Well, it's not a good idea."

"I'm not sure I know the difference you are meaning," Emma said honestly.

Red smiled and then set the cup down in front of her with deliberate slowness. "Did your mother ever tell you about Peter?" she asked, not seeming to acknowledge the younger woman's confession. "I was a little younger than you are now when I first met him. He was a wonderful man, so thoughtful, so kind, and so ambitious, but for whatever reason he loved me."

There was no doubt that Emma had wondered why her mother's dearest friend had never married. She was a beautiful woman and clearly the type of woman that men dreamed of being with, but still she lived alone with her grandmother. She was strong and beautiful, hardly the type you would feel sorry for, but Emma wondered why no man had caught her attention. "Where is he?"

"My grandmother was not very approving of him," she explained, her voice more emotional with the memory. "Called him a wastrel. She forbid me to see him." Lifting her fingers to her lips she delicately touched them as though she could still feel his kiss.

"And you listened to her?" Emma asked. Even when Baelfire had been at his most ardent, her parents had not forbidden her from seeing him. She was not sure what she would have done had they done such a thing. Yes, they had expressed disappointment and displeasure in her choice of a suitor to encourage, but they had been clear that it was her choice and not theirs.

"No," she said with a shaky laugh. "We thought we were being sly, sneaking about, his visiting me at my window. But even your mother could see the way we would look at each other. We were making plans and then…" She let her voice drift, a sadness that Emma had never really seen before was palpable in her eyes as she again sipped from the tea.

"What happened, Red?"

"I lost him," she said, rolling her lips back into her mouth and looking skyward for a moment. "That's not quite right. You see, Granny didn't want me to be with him or anyone. She knew about my ability to change and just how dangerous that could be. I hurt him, Emma. I killed him."

Emma's eyes grew wide with that revelation. She had known for a while about the woman's other side, but there was a difference between hearing of the potential and hearing the result. There was no fear from Emma as she looked upon her mother's friend, but there was a certain caution. "I'm so sorry," she said, as if she was offering a condolence for something that just happened. The woman's sad smile spoke to her in a way she didn't quite understand.

"I didn't tell you that to garner your sorrow," Red mused. "I know the situation isn't the same, but I wasn't honest with Peter about who I am because I didn't know myself. And it cost Peter his life. While your secrets are not that dramatic…"

Emma flinched, knowing with certainty that her parents had not shared everything with the woman before her. "I understand," she said, interrupting. "I do understand."

***AAA***

Killian made it back to the inn before most of his crew had departed for the ship or to the rooms with a woman they had met and seduced with usually minimal effort. He greeted each of them, listening to the concerns that they were taking too long there in town what with the crown's edict against pirating. "Playing with fire," one of the lesser men said while chugging down rum as if it were water. "We'll end up in the brig, all of us."

Though the captain's eyes rolled with the exaggeration in the man's voice and words, he wasn't completely disagreeing. King David of Mist Haven had a distinct and concentrated dislike for pirates, especially those that threatened the beautiful and peaceful coast of his kingdom. Kings before him had issued proclamations and edicts before, but from the looks of it, the King had dedicated a portion of his navy to bringing the pirates around the area to justice. Killian had always skirted the law with dexterous maneuvers, but staying put in one spot was not the wisest of moves.

The more his men drank the more braggadocios they became, telling tales of sea monsters and mermaids, as well as whole ships they had conquered single handedly if their stories were to be believed. Usually Killian was right there with them, bragging and swapping tales with them, but he sat quietly and heard only Emma's words tumbling in his head. He had known that he could not hide the lack of his hand with her. She was neither blind nor stupid, but her brazen way of telling him that she had noticed was not just the idea of being found out. No, it was her acceptance that had warmed his heart and given a lightness to him the whole ride back to the tiny village. She had not been repulsed nor pitying in her response. And it made him all the more intrigued by her.

"Captain," Smee said, once again interrupting. "I have news to report."

"As you always do," Killian answered, wondering how it was that this man had elected to become a pirate rather than some sort of town crier for his penchant for dramatic declarations. "On with it."

"The Dark One," the shorter man said with those same dramatics he was used to using. "He's close by. He's been asking about some means to travel to another realm. Quite desperate they say."

Killian didn't bother to ask who they were, as Smee was unlikely to know. His hand clenched and released, feeling the desire to crush the man in question's heart between his fingers though he had never done such a thing himself. He somehow doubted that the Crocodile even had a heart, as how could any man or beast who had done such things truly have a conscience or a soul. "Where?"

"Nothing for certain yet," Smee admitted. "But I've got my sources. Don't you worry, Captain. We'll find him."

***AAA***

"He's just offering to walk me to the inn," Emma protested when Red handed her the small silver dagger as Killian's form became more evident in the distance. "I hardly need protection."

The dark haired woman scoffed at her protests, reaching out and curling the young princess's fingers around the handle of the weapon. "Killian Jones is not exactly a gentleman," she warned, her face clearly saying more.

"Perhaps he has changed," Emma said, uncertainty bleeding through. "I don't really know him, but you seem to think he is dangerous. Is there something that you are wanting to tell me?"

Red felt as though she was on a tight wire hung over a cliff. This was her friend's daughter, her only daughter and the heir to the crown. She had sworn to Snow that she would protect Emma from all harm, but what harm was Killian Jones. He had a reputation, but so did most men of the sea. She had seen him take many a woman to his room to bed them, but was that really so different than any of the other men in town. Surely his experience was based more on his good looks offering him better opportunities than some of the others. "I don't believe your father or mother would think any man was good enough for you," Red shared. "I am just warning you to keep your wits about you."

She was about to ask the woman again about Killian when Leo bounded out the door after them, his arms going about Emma's waist. "Don't go, Emma," he practically whined. With his mouth half hidden by Emma's skirts (or rather Red's skirts in the borrowed dress), it sounded as though he was saying mama through the muffled cry.

Emma let him cling for another moment as Killian approached on the horse from the night before, the sunlight revealing bits of amber in his scruff and inky black hair. His eyes were watching the scene with interest as she unwound the boy's arms and knelt before him, taking his chin in one hand to tilt his vision toward her. "You enjoyed spending the day with Aunt Red yesterday. And remember what you promised me? You're going to be a big help to her today in the garden. She must get it ready for planting."

The little boy's eyes were no longer the grey-blue they had been as a baby, but a crystal color that their father also had. Wide and bright, he nodded emphatically as he repeated a few of the things he could do like dig the holes for the seeds and help her clear away the vines and weeds that had sprout up since the last harvest. "I'll be a big help," he announced proudly. "I could plant the whole thing myself."

"No doubt that you could," Emma told him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "I'll be back later to hear all about it." She smiled fondly at him as he embraced Red's hand for the walk back to the cabin unaware of the stern look that the older woman was shooting toward Killian.

"Is that your horse?" he asked Killian suddenly, his attention turning from the two women to the man standing there waiting.

"I borrowed her so that the lady would not have to walk so far," he told the boy, smiling at the way the small eyes scrutinized the animal.

"Is it a far walk?" Leo asked his sister, peering up at her with curiosity. "So far that you need a horse?" He knew his sister well, including her love of sneaking off to walk by herself to think. More times than he could count he had asked his parents about Emma's whereabouts only to hear that she was off for a walk.

"You took that walk with me the other day," she reminded him. "You know how far it is." She could feel the amused grin on Killian's face growing as the boy mentally calculated. "Killian is being kind to let me ride rather than walk so I am a bigger help to Granny."

"She needs our help," he said, repeating the phrase from the night before.

"Yes, and you are so good to want to help Aunt Red so I might do this."

***AAA***

"You don't have to do this, you know," Emma said, breaking the silence that had fallen as Killian led the horse back into the village. They had spoken only occasionally about benign topics like the weather and if she was comfortable enough. "I am capable of walking."

"Perhaps this is my way of helping," he commented. "You will be fresh and rested for a day helping the Widow Lucas. Knowing her as I do, I imagine you have to work hard enough to convince her to allow you to do so."

Emma did not answer that, not wanting to speak ill of the woman who had been such an ally to her parents. Instead she commented again on the low fog that hung around the marshy area where they were at, laughing as she admitted it had taken her a few years of life before she had realized how Mist Haven had gotten its name. "I wasn't the brightest child."

"I have no doubt you were a precocious and brilliant child, as your boy certainly seems to have those same traits."

The sun was already beginning to burn off much of the fog as they traveled, Killian guiding the horse around some of the bumpier parts of the path. She did not remind him again that she was perfectly capable of navigating this on her own, as she could see how proud he was to do something for her. "You seem to know your way around here," she said, suddenly seeming to realize that it was her turn to talk. He did seem quite sure in his navigation despite the fog and the ardent glances at her that seemed to be more frequent than his glances at the path.

"Is that a compliment?" he asked.

"Just an observation."

The planked and stone buildings of the town grew closer and Emma could see that people were already milling about. It was laundry day so many of the women who usually were at home were coming out with woven baskets toward the river that emptied into the ocean. The color of their soiled fabrics bright against the landscape of budding trees and fresh grass. She sighed a bit at the sight of it, eliciting a questioning look from him. "It's pretty with all the colors, bright and new."

He nodded as if he understood and then steadied the horse in front of the door to the inn. The horse was hardly a while one and presented no danger of running off with her, but he still stood there as a guard for her. She pulled her leg over the saddle horn so that she might slide down to the ground, but hesitated as she looked at him. "A gentleman would help me down."

"Then I suppose I should do that since I am always a gentleman," he said. He smirked, dropping the reigns to offer his hand to her as she righted herself on the ground and smoothed down her dress before letting go.

"Aunt Red claims that you aren't, but you did that quite naturally."

"I'm afraid my reputation would agree with your Aunt Red," he said, a hint of sadness shining through. "You do bring out some of my more noble instincts though."

Her eyes studied his embarrassed gesture as he reached behind her for the knotted package that Red had again packed for her. His chuckle broke the silence as he placed it in her waiting hands. "That's quite a lunch that the Lady Lucas packed for you. Are you usually so hungry?"

Pink staining her pale cheeks, she weighed the package in her hands and remembered the addition of the salted meats, cheese, and bread that she had seen the woman include. There was quite a bit for her, despite the fact that she was working in an establishment that served food. "She did seem to overindulge. Perhaps…" She looked up at him again. "Perhaps I could convince you to share my lunch with me. It won't be the same as lunch at the pub."

It was a bold request for the time, one that a princess or anyone of breeding would never make. However, it flowed off her tongue with incredible ease though her breath did hitch as she waited for his answer. "I think I should like that." His words had echoed her own shy semi-acceptance of him.

"You should take the horse back," she told him, maneuvering toward the front door. "I'll see you for lunch?"

"Aye."

***AAA***

Granny wearily handed the young blonde the sacks of flour to place on the lopsided wooden shelves that lined the far wall of the kitchen. Each of them was 25 pounds and cumbersome to throw into place for a girl who had very little experience with such things. Letting out an inelegant grunt at the exertion, Emma wiped her brow with the back of her hand and waited on the next instruction from the woman.

The older woman glanced at the kitchen door that led outside, her eyes scanning the empty opening with careful consideration. "I thought that one handed man would be around here to help you," she said with a puff of air. "He might have actually been useful today."

Emma flushed either from the statement or from the exertion. "I think he had things to do."

"I don't think he has given up on your attention so easily. Men like him are stubborn and determined if anything."

Emma pushed her hands down onto her dress as she watched the older woman. "He's not trying to get my attention," she insisted. "He's just being helpful."

"Don't paint him in the light of some school boy offering to walk you home from class, Emma," the woman warned. "He's a grown man and obviously has found something of interest in you. There's nothing noble about it. He's dangerous and dark, two qualities that may seem exciting but are bound to hurt you in the end. I know better than to try to forbid you, but I hope you'll listen to reason."

"There's no need to warn me, Granny," Emma said, brushing off the idea. "He's…"

"I'd tell you that your parents would not approve, but that might encourage you more. So I'll tell you this. His intentions might seem good and light right now, but he's not the sort of man who has that goodness in him. He'll always look out for himself first. And that is not the kind of man you wish to have asking about you."

There was a small gasp from Granny as she fisted her hands at her sides, an indication that Emma had learned signaled that she was in some sort of pain. Neither of them spoke as whatever the pain was faded away, the woman's appearance returning to normal.

"You should rest more," Emma said in a soft but admonishing voice. "You don't look well."

"I'll sleep with the trolls in the afterlife," the woman said, barking out an order to Lily to get the mutton cut before the customers began to arrive. "You and Red worry and fret over me as though it might prolong my life. My dear I'm old and eventually this body will wear itself out."

Emma's mouth drew into a frown as she looked at the floor. "I don't like to think about that. It's too sad." Emma had lost most of her grandparents long before she was born. So while she felt the loss of them, she did not have memories of them in her life.

"It's a part of life, dear," the woman said affectionately. "Reminds us that we should not squander our time. Especially with the wrong people. The wrong sorts will cause you pain." The woman straightened her apron and muttered something about the full moon as she rubbed her scarred arm. "Come on with you now. We've got more baking to do and mutton to cook."

By the time Emma managed to take a small break for lunch her apron bore the stains of the flour and bits of dough, even a streak of flour across her forehead and down her cheek. However, Killian had not forgotten her invitation and stood hesitantly at the doorway watching her retwist her blonde hair into a tighter braid as she hummed a song that her mother had sang to her on occasion. "I was afraid you might have forgotten, love," he said. "I even brought a bit of fruit for us to share."

She was a bit startled to have been caught in such a moment and gave her apron a quick brush with her hands as if it might help the mess. "I'm sorry. I was going to come search for you."

"No need," he said with a little chuckle. "I ran in a few of the shops this morning and did a few things that I had been neglecting. I am all yours now."

Still used to eating her meals in her room or in the private dining room with her family, Emma felt awkward as she gathered the pack that Red had made for her. "I suppose we could eat in here," she said, ignoring the way the flames from the oven had already heated the room to a near unbearable state.

"If you don't mind, Emma, I know of a spot. That is if you think you can get away for a few moments." She agreed that she could and followed him out the door and down the rockier path to the docks. He was much more sure footed than she was and cradled his own packages under his arm so that he might offer her a hand for balance.

"I tried to find a spot away from the fisherman and the cannery," he explained as he led her to the spot he had in mind. He'd already placed a blanket there and pillow for her to sit on, which she told him was sweet but unnecessary. She noted as he stretched out in front of her that his clothes were different than this morning. His light colored pants and shirt were replaced with a brown pair of riding pants and a similarly styled shirt as he had been wearing the past two days in a blue color with a brown waistcoat on top. His leather boots shone brightly.

She felt a bit underdressed in the work dress that she had again borrowed for Red. This time it was a brown and pink pattern with tiny buttons that had tulips carved into the boning. She had taken off her apron and left it back at the inn, but still she felt a mess. Brushing her hand across her forehead to push back a few of the errant strands of hair, she was horrified to find the white flour on her hand. She almost spat at Killian for not telling her of the mess.

He only grinned and reached into his pocket for a handkerchief that he dipped into the water before wiping the flour from her face. She had not had anyone do such a thing since she was a small child and had snuck into the chocolate with Elsa and Anna. However, she could not help but notice the sigh that left her mouth at the tender way he touched her. "Better?" he asked.

"You tell me," she answered. "I cannot see my own face."

"Lovely as always."

Not realizing that she had unconsciously leaned forward to better accept his touch even though it had been more practical than anything else, she retreated backward quickly. She set about unfurling the bulging napkin that Red had packed and attempting to settle the items on the blanket as she had seen others do in the past. Killian did the same with the dried fruit, apologizing that it was the wrong time of the year for fresh.

They both chewed quietly, occasionally commenting on the tastiness of the items or about a bird that flew by them. So when Emma spoke again, Killian practically jumped in surprise not only at the sound but at her bluntness. "You don't seem that dangerous," she said, studying the angle of his face and the slope of his brow. "I'm not sure…"

"You assume me to be a danger to you and yet you asked me to lunch?" he asked, the dimples that appeared when he smiled disappeared as he considered his own question. "You enjoy courting danger?"

Her eyes rolled upward, the dark lashes she sported fluttering with the absurdity of both her question and his answer. "People warn me about you, but you don't seem that menacing. I was only wondering if you would be honest with me."

He chewed at the bread he was eating with a bit more care than was needed, taking the moment to think. "I suppose that people are always going to label us as they see fit, but no, Emma, I am not a danger to you. I would never wish to hurt you."

She had heard words promising protection before, assurances that no harm would come to her. She had heard them from Baelfire on more than one occasion, including the night he asked her to run away with him. That little voice inside her, the warning bell that ran each time she felt the tug of someone's dishonesty had failed her that night. Or perhaps she had buried it under the hope and optimism for a future. She waited for it to sound at Killian's words, but there was little more than a tiny twinge.

Killian had no way to know of her internal dialogue, no clue as to her struggle to reconcile the gentleness of the man before her with the alarm that Granny and Red had raised. So he continued to talk to her, unknowing that his words were lost on her at that moment. "I'm sorry? I wasn't…"

He smiled a bit tightly, reaching forward to reassemble some of the packages. "I suppose your mind was wandering, love. I was only saying that I hoped you wouldn't find it too forward, but I purchased a bit of a trinket for your boy."

Emma's confused state grew, her mouth falling a bit. He truly did think that Leo was her son, completely unaware of her identity and station. Of course, she told herself. A man of any position or lack thereof would share a lunch with a princess. There would be guards and protocols. Her parents would have had to have met him, approved, and given permission. Still the guilt she felt bubbling inside her was not for having skipped those steps with the established court. It was his sincerity that hurt, that trust in his expression.

"I don't think…"

His tight smile faltered, eyes darkening. "I apologize, Emma. I didn't mean to overstep my place. I had not intended to…I saw a miniature ship that had been carved by the local cobbler and thought it might be a nice toy for the lad to have while you were away. It was not meant to be a ploy, only a token. I will not gift him with it if it bothers you." His hand hurried with the work of putting away their lunch scraps.

Her chest felt tight as she watched him, his demeanor a bit crestfallen at the idea that he had somehow done the wrong thing. "I'm sure it is something he will love," she said finally. "But he's not…he's not my son. He's my younger brother. I am caring for him while our parents are seeing to other matters."

Killian's head snapped up and for a split second Emma worried that her dishonesty had proven too much for him. "A dutiful daughter and older sister. I must say that I'm quite impressed and a bit relieved. I had thought you might be a widow or that some horrible fate had befallen you to leave you quite alone with your boy, but it is a more honorable cause that has you working as you do."

"Killian, I'm not…" she paused. "I'm not that noble or honorable. Please don't place me on some pedestal like a work of art. I'm flawed." She stumbled up to her feet, swaying a bit the dock's movement before she could walk back toward the inn and pub.

She wasn't really thinking about him following, assuming that he wouldn't. So when his footsteps grew closer and he fell into stride beside her, she stopped in her tracks. The questions on her face asked why he would continue to try to get to know her when she was clearly not prepared for such attention.

"I'm flawed too, love, but everyone is. I only hope you see past those flaws."

 ** _I haven't gotten a chance to respond to many of the comments, but I want to say thank you again. I love that people love this story and concept. I hope you continue to enjoy it and continue to tell me what you are thinking and what works for you._**


	5. Chapter 5

Lily was not all that thrilled to have been left with the bulk of the work over lunch, which she expressed to Emma when she returned to the pub. Not feeling well, Granny had rested in one of the empty rooms and that had left the barmaid to both cook and wait on the few patrons there that afternoon.

"I didn't realize," Emma said, hanging her head at the fact she had not been as helpful as she could have been. "I apologize. I will be more…"

"See to the ashes in the fireplace," Lily barked angrily. "I didn't have time because I was…" Emma did not even wait for her to continue the sentence, as she was already gathering the small shovel and bucket to use on the mess.

"That's enough," Granny said from her seat at one of the tables. "Emma is not here to be your servant, Lily. She's here to assist me and see to my needs. And right now I need someone with far better eyesight than mine to read these numbers and make sure that we are able to pay all out debts." The woman might not have been standing, but her voice carried such resonance that the two younger women both stops in their tracks.

Emma spent the rest of the afternoon performing some of the bookkeeping tasks that Granny admitted she wished she could hand off to Red. However, there was no love lost between the dark haired beauty and the mathematical tasks that seemed unending and a necessary evil.

"You'll truly be walking with us?" Emma asked, confused as to why Granny was wrapping the knitted shawl around her shoulders and handing the leather bound register to Lily. "I know you said you would, but you're not staying the night here?"

"I'll be walking home same as you," the older woman said, her glasses perched at the tip of her rounded nose. "No need for him to join us."

By him she obviously meant Killian, who had upon learning of Granny's plan went in search of a wagon or buggy to carry them. It was Granny who told him it was unnecessary, but Emma assumed he was ignoring that directive since he hadn't returned.

"I think he plans to give Leo a present," Emma explained, feeling the pointed look from the older woman bearing into her. "I could see if…"

The woman turned and stalked over to the door before Emma's sentence even found its completion. Her head sticking out to inspect the nearly empty street, she turned back and looked again at Emma. "Emma, you're playing with fire by keeping company with that man. I tolerated it at first, as he seemed to amuse you and was surely a help to you as you settled into your role here for the time being. Yet he is becoming all too familiar with you and not even the real you."

"Granny, I'm not meaning to lie to him," she said in the small voice she used when her father had found that she had used crushed berries to decorate the armor that he had worn into battle. "I just have not revealed my family to him. It seems cruel, but I cannot risk it."

"Sometimes we guard ourselves for good reason. Emma, there are a great many men and even some women who would do you harm just for the chance to hurt the royal family. They would ransom you or worse to destroy your parents and what they have built. I warned your mother of such before they left, but she assured us that you are more than capable of protecting yourself through any means. So I have allowed it, but I'm not comfortable with your associations with men such as him."

"Men like him?" Emma pondered that for a moment, studying her hands. "Is there something about Killian I should know?"

"I…" Granny pursed her lips, making the glasses slide back down her thin nose. "Emma, you must choose an honorable man, not one who excites you. You must choose a man who will lead with you, not usurp your power. You must choose a man who will understand and respect you, not one who aims to hurt you with his own ambition." She frowned. "I know it is a heavy responsibility. But the crown is quite heavy too."

"And what about love?" Emma asked, her voice trembling. "Am I not to find a man who loves me? A man who looks at me the way my father looks at my mother?"

After muttering about love blinding the most sensible, Granny's expression softened. "You can't truly believe that the man truly loves you. You don't know him and you haven't allowed him to know you. While I'm not telling you to make yourself an easy prey, I'm saying that you can't possibly believe there is anything true between you when you have cloaked yourself as someone other than who you are. Let me ask you this. Would your parents' guards and do about him?"

Emma cast her eyes downward as she heard the woman's criticism. "I asked that they not leave a guard," she explained. "I wanted to feel normal and without the limitations that my life at the palace holds."

Granny nodded her head slowly, gesturing toward the heavy curtain that was between the dining room and kitchen. "Pull that closed."

Obeying the command, Emma manipulated the draperies and returned to the spot across the table from the woman. "Yes, Granny?"

"My family knows what it is like not to feel normal, not to feel as though we are part of things because we don't fit into the little boxes that the town folks think we should." There was a near wistfulness to Granny's voice as she looked at the young princess. "People speak of how it makes them feel to not be included, but they don't know what it can be like for those of us deemed dangerous. Men have hunted my Red, wanted to kill her because they think she can't control the wolf inside of her. It's a scary world to know that those that sit beside us today might turn on us tomorrow." She pushed her wire glasses up her nose. "I imagine you may feel the same, Emma."

Huffing out a nervous titter, Emma brushed a few of the crumbs on the table into her hand. "I'm not a wolf, Granny."

"All the same, I think you know," she said with the same stoic message. "And I think you must not believe that man would understand if you were to tell him who you really are, Emma."

Emma shrugged. "And who would that be? A princess? An embarrassment to her family? I'm nobody, Granny."

"You are hardly nobody, Emma. You are a princess. You are human too, beautiful, kind, and giving, just as your mother. You are strong and fierce, just as your father. But you are also your own person, one who is not ready to trust anyone with the real her because they may not truly understand."

The princess's face scrunched with a perplexed countenance. "I don't understand. You tell me that Killian is not worthy of my trust, but yet you tell me that I cannot truly know if someone is if I don't trust them with who I am. You are speaking in circles, Granny."

"Then let me speak plainly. I see it in your eyes that you have given a portion of your heart to this man because he treats you as though you are a simple villager. But Emma you are special, whether you embrace that or not. You are wise to be guarded, wiser still to not reveal yourself to him or to anyone. Don't let the allure of his words and his kindness toward you make you believe that you can trust him. He is hiding just as much as you."

***AAA***

Granny riding in the wagon had limited the conversation between Emma and Killian, but he had been kind to both women. Helping them in and out, offering his hand first to Granny and then to Emma, he had made sure that he was a gentleman at least in behavior. While Emma looked to Granny as if to say that it was a kind gesture, the older woman remained a bit critical and barely thanked him.

However, Emma's younger brother was a bit more taken with the man's generosity. Leo's eyes were bright and happy as Emma explained that Killian had a gift for him. Half holding her skirts and half bouncing with a hand held outward, he squealed at the sight of the tiny ship. Her hand rested on his back as she pushed him forward a bit with a reminder to be thankful for the gesture.

"It is no trouble, mate," Killian said, kneeling in front of him to show some of the intricacies of the craft. Soon the prospect of holding it with both hands won out over playing shy, as he separated himself from his older sister and paid more attention to the man with the small ship held out to him.

Red was helping her grandmother into the cabin as Emma approached them, both women looking sternly at her. "I thought he would enjoy it," Emma said, her hand gesturing toward Leo and Killian. "My brother has only been on a handful of sea voyages, but he's loved them so much. I hoped that it would give him something to hold onto as I spend my days away from him and our parents are away."

The two women exchanged a look as Granny ducked into the cabin. "I wouldn't trust him, Emma," the younger of the two said. "I know he's charming and dashing, but he's not to be trusted. He's…"

Emma looked over her shoulder at the way Killian was laughing heartedly at something the young boy said. She had been there before herself, hearing her brother's interpretation of life enough to entertain the coldest of souls. "He doesn't seem so dangerous, Red," she said softly. "You and Granny are so cryptic with your warnings about him, but they do not fit the Killian I know. Please speak plainly. I know that I must be careful, but he's so kind and thoughtful. What reason do you have for me not to trust him?"

Red allowed the door to shut behind her grandmother, closing her eyes as she considered the way to explain to Emma. "What does Killian do for a living?" she asked Emma. "Or what does he say that he does?"

Emma peered back at the man with the jet black hair and soft smile of amusement and pride as her brother repeated back the parts of a ship with blazing accuracy. "I don't know that he's ever…Something in the shipping way of work? I first thought he was a blacksmith, as he was leaving there when I met him. And he had smudges of soot on his face."

"That was kohl," the dark haired woman explained. "Killian is a captain of his own ship, one he commandeered from a royal navy as best I can tell from the markings upon it. Not your fathers, but still it was not earned honestly. He's known as Captain Hook, Emma. I don't think anyone but you has ever called him Killian in years. Maybe…well, it's been a long time. He's a pirate, Emma. He has done horrible things to the very men who protect this kingdom. And he's not remorseful in the slightest, parading those actions around as a banner. So as kind as he has been to you, do you think your father would appreciate the association? Or your mother? Do you realize that pirates once stole all your mother had with a promise of a voyage to safety? They left her penniless and alone in this world. Your father was once on a ship taken over by pirates. They left him and others for dead."

"Was Killian…" She clenched her hands into fists, imagining again how her mother must have felt at that stage of her life. No parents or loved ones, a throne taken from her, a stepmother who aimed to kill her, and friends who had forsaken her. How lucky her mother had been to have found friends like Red and Granny, a new family formed out of the desperation. That Killian could be such a man both frightened and disgusted Emma. But there was another part of her who could not reconcile this man who had been so gentle with her and the villain that Red described.

"No, it wasn't him or his crew, but Emma, look at him. Do you really think you can trust a pirate?"

"I will see to his dismissal," Emma announced, her throat closing and her stomach turning. Her skirts dusted the tops of her shoes as she walked purposefully toward her brother, gripping his shoulder and telling him to join Granny inside.

"He's got quite a sharp mind, Emma," Killian said as the boy scampered away. "I have been around men four times his age who cannot remember half the information that boy just recited. He's a marvel."

Emma wet her lips, feeling quite alone as she avoided the clarity of his blue eyes. "Are you a pirate?"

The beaming expression he wore became more distressed. "Aye," he said with no sense of the pride from before. "I had hoped you would not find fault in that title, but I am just that – a pirate."

She took a step backward from him as though this news might somehow leap to her. "That's not a very honorable profession," she said, reluctant to say what she was truly thinking at that moment.

His eyes drifted from her toward the ground, his own movements unsure as he reached over with his hand to rub at the empty brace on his arm. "Honor has not suited me in my life, Emma. I have lost my brother to the supposedly honorable intentions men in power because of the blood that flows through their veins and not the goodness of their hearts. So forgive me if my profession is not palatable to your delicate sensibilities."

She scowled at him, her expression more about his description of her than the fact that he was owning up to his profession. "You said you weren't a danger," she said with a sorrowful shake of her head. "You said you…"

"I said I was not a danger to you, Emma. And I am not. I stand by my word that I would not and will not hurt you." He waited for her to look at him, give some sort of indication that she might understand and believe him, but it did not come. Nodding to himself he turned with a near snap of his body as he headed toward the path back to town. "I apologize, Emma. I will see myself off."

She breathed in deeply, watching his retreating form toward the wagon that still waited. "Killian," she said in a whispering voice. Maybe she was just saying his name to claim she had tried to call out to him. He didn't respond, but who could have heard her small voice over the sounds of everything around them. Closing her eyes, she pictured him there before her with that same kindness she had seen reflected in his eyes. She did not feel the fear of him that Granny and Red seemed to think was necessary. Instead, she felt his understanding and for a moment she wasn't scared of him. "Killian."

His own voice shook her from the reverie of her thoughts, her eyes flying open to find him before her. "Emma?" he asked. "I was…How did I?" His eyes were not clear in their confusion, his hand gesturing wildly as he looked from her to the path he had just been walking down. "Tell me."

"I didn't mean to call you back," she said, not truly explaining the circumstances. "I'm sorry."

"I am the one who should be apologizing, love," he said. "I was not honest with you about who I am. While I cannot apologize for that part of me, I should have been more forthcoming."

She felt a sourness in her mouth as she looked at him, unsure what to do with the information he had given her. "I never asked," she said suddenly, the words rushing out. "I never asked about your livelihood or your vocation. I never asked and so you did not lie to me."

"Except by omission?"

A nearby bird cawed loudly and for a moment Emma turned her face upward in that direction. "You have given me no reason to doubt you when you say you are not a danger to me," she said. "But I will not lie and say that your actions at sea do not worry me some."

He nodded, turning his head once again to the path. "There is nothing I can do to change that, though I wish I could. I should go."

She bit the inside of her mouth, watching his confused state as he tried to reconcile what had just happened with the reality of his life. "I won't need you to accompany me tomorrow," she said, as if it had not occurred to her that he had not offered. "I mean to say that I won't be going into town. Red is planning to work in the pub. And I said that I would help here around the cabin for the planting and with some of the other chores."

His eyes searched hers for a moment, looking for some understanding that he wasn't finding. "I see."

"It is late," she commented, looking at the low hanging sun that spilled an almost orange light through the trees. "The pub won't have food by the time you return. You'll have missed your dinner."

It had been a long time since anyone had worried about where his next meal would come from or if he was well fed. He was not even sure how to respond to that so he just stood there as she backed away from him, not fully turning away as she went to the cabin door and held her hand up to him in a gesture to both silence and stall him. When she walked closer, she gave a sad sort of smile of her own. "There is enough to share if you would like." She wasn't so innocent as to think that he cared about the food, as he probably drank more than a few meals.

"Emma, you don't have to do this. I understand that I have upset you. I apologize for that, but to ask me to stay might be too much."

"You say that you wish you could remove my worry. I am giving you that opportunity, Killian."

***AAA***

Red placed the bowl in front of her grandmother with a loud clattering thump as she heard the door slamming shut in echo as Leo ran from the room toward his sister and her companion. "She's a fool," Red proclaimed angrily. "Snow would never…"

The older woman drug her spoon through the bowl, a piece of bread in the other hand. "Snow would be the first to disprove your theory. She sees the best in everyone, including those who have wronged her. I suppose the girl comes by it honestly."

Eyes flashing and nostrils flaring, Red stared hotly at the woman before her. "So which of us is to explain to the King that his daughter is keeping company with a pirate? I don't wish to see David's face when he learns of this. And you allowing it? You barely let me speak to anyone, let alone a man until I learned I control my changing. It…Why are you not more concerned?"

The slurp of the soup into Granny's mouth was loud, echoing against the crackling fire where the pot of broth and meat boiled and simmered. "She kept company with the Dark One's son. I hardly think his reaction will be much worse that she's with a pirate who she will never see again after she returns to her home. He's enamored with her now, but he'll lose interest."

Red was pacing, the clasp of her cloak reflecting the low light of the room. "Baelfire may have come from a man so evil that there are few who don't fear him, but he was not in his heart dark or evil. He is a man of his circumstances. Captain Hook chose this life. He chose to be a marauder."

"He has not hurt her," Granny declared. "And though I have misgivings, I think that you or I telling her to stay away will only encourage her to be rebellious. So instead I suggest we be vigilant and make sure that she is happy and safe."

"A pirate being kind to a princess?" Red asked dubiously. "I don't see how this will work. If he learns of her high status, he could try to do something horrible."

"His ship is out of commission for the time being. His crew is made up of mostly drunkards. He, himself, was only able to procure a lame old mare to carry her home on because he was worried about her. I hardly think he's going to kidnap her with no viable way to remove her from this village."

"So we should trust him with her because he's too strategic to do anything too vile? We should trust him because he's attempting to shine on about his honor when he's pillaged the treasuries of kingdoms and murdered men at sea? Granny, you have never trusted anyone in your life. Are you turning soft?"

"You, my dear, have lain with far worse than Captain Hook and lived to tell the tale. He's not attempted anything with her that would lead to a hint of impropriety. They walk together and he helped her to peel some potatoes. I hardly think this will be more than a brief memory for her. However, the more we disapprove, the more likely she is to attempt to prove us wrong. Remember, she is her mother's daughter."

"So she's going to see the best in him." Red shook her fist with frustration at her side. "She's a fool and we are fools for allowing this to happen. We should have insisted on guards for her here at the cabin. Snow believes her to be safe."

"She is safe enough," Granny declared. "I don't doubt that if anyone, including the pirate, hurts her that you will rip out their throats for sport."

***AAA***

It was not that far away from that village that a man used to shadows and darkness bolted into the castle where a former queen lay resting after a long day. Her chambers were still opulent, but he was quite used to her austere tastes. She had been that way for years, dramatic and bold with her choices and behavior. However, now a mother and a wife, she had softened and hidden away the urges of her former role.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed when her chocolate eyes fluttered open to find him there sitting in wait for her. "Were you watching me sleep?"

"Merely waiting, dearie," he said, his lips curling up over his not so white teeth. "I have come to discuss your son. And this seemed a good time since your husband is occupied."

Though it had been two years since the bassinet was near her bed, Regina looked toward that now bare area with dread. The boy now who had grown from the baby was just down the corridor with his own nursery of handmade finery. He was none the worse for the attention thrown to him or his mother's spoiling, as he was sweet and loving in ways that she had never been.

"I fulfilled my end of the bargain," she seethed, hoping that he did not notice the way her hands clutched blindly for the covers on her bed. "I gave you…"

"Foolish woman," he said, the sneer sickeningly sweet and settled on his face as though he had never been without it. The few candles in the room reflected and projected off the gold flecks of his skin as though it somehow emanated from within him. But she knew better, knew that nothing but darkness would seep out from the very pores that seemed to glow. "I know things – things that your husband doesn't know. Things he would be quite interested in knowing if told."

"What do want from me?"

His legs hung over the arm of the chair and swung forward as though he might stand. He didn't. "It's not you I want, dearie. It's your son. He will help me."

She wrinkled her nose in an attempt to understand his riddling ways. "He's barely forming sentences," she said as though human development might make for a good argument. She was ignoring that nobody argued successfully with the Dark One. Who needed logic when there was magic? "How could he possibly?"

While the Dark One held so much power that most were terrified of crossing him, he lacked patience. The combination could be lethal. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

"You do when it's my son," Regina added haughtily. "You owe me an explanation."

"I don't," he answered simply. "I just meant to warn you, dearie. I'll pick him up when the time is right. So you best be prepared for it."

In a puff of smoke, he was gone.

***AAA***

"I don't wish to cause you problems with the Widow Lucas or Red," Killian said, balancing the bowl on his lap. He was watching Emma's delicate but steady movements as she assisted her brother with his meal there beneath the budding trees.

"They are protective of us. My Aunt Red has been a great friend to my parents since before I was born." She looked toward the cabin with a worried expression. "I seem to do that so much these days. I disappoint everyone."

"Not me," Leo said, the soup that Red had made, dribbling down his chin.

Emma laughed, using the corner of the napkin to wipe at the mess. "No, I don't disappoint you, Leo."

The young boy seemed thoughtful as he watched Killian struggle to maintain the balance of his soup on his knees and lift the spoon without splashing the contents on himself. There were moments that seemed precarious, but that only seemed to entertain the young prince more. "You're funny," he said with a solid nod that he agreed with himself. "Very funny."

Killian's thick dark eyebrows raised in pleasure as the boy's assessment. "Funny? The lad finds me amusing?"

"You have a funny name," Leo continued. "I like it though."

"I'm so pleased that my name meets your approval," he said, winking at Emma who was quickly telling her brother to mind his manners. "It was my grandfather's name. He was my mother's father. My brother was named after her grandfather."

The little boy was still missing a tooth or two in the front that shone through as he smiled. "I was named after my grandfather too," he explained. "They just call me Leo because I'm short."

The eyebrows raised again as Emma laughed into her hand. "No, Leo. We call you Leo because it is the short version of Leopold. It is not a reflection of your size."

Thinking about that for a moment, Leo considered the name. "I think I like Leopold better than Killian. Killian sounds funny."

Emma giggled as Killian pretended to pout over the word. He had repeated it several times before asking Leo to explain himself. Asking a young child to explain is often a lesson in garbled logic, but to the pirate's credit he listened attentively as Emma gathered her bowl and her brother's to take back to the cabin. "I'll be right back," she said over her brother's head.

She was inside the smallish cabin when her brother dropped the bombshell on Killian. "Did you know I'm a prince? My grandfather was a king."

 _ **I've had a couple of questions that keep coming up so I thought I'd address those as best as I can here:**_

 _ **Why have Red and Granny not been more worried about Emma's being around Killian? I hope this chapter explains that a little better. Long story short – nobody would understand what it is like to be labeled as dangerous when you're not than Red and Granny. You're going to see a bit of the struggle for them with that.**_

 _ **Does Emma have magic? Yes, she does. The question is who knows that and who doesn't.**_

 _ **What happened to the baby Emma and Baelfire have? I haven't revealed that yet, but yes there was a big clue to that in this chapter.**_


	6. Chapter 6

**_I want to sincerely thank you for your comments and questions about this fic. Each notification that people are favoriting, following, giving kudos or leaving a comment just cements my determination._**

 ** _I know I say this about all my fics, but this is fast becoming a favorite. And the next chapter was one of my favorites to write. This is a hard version of Emma for me to write. She is clearly more innocent than the abandoned and hurt Emma of Storybrooke, but she is still a wounded bird in this story too. So that balance is a struggle for me. I also am enjoying writing Killian struggle between his revenge and his growing feelings for a woman he would have to give that up for if he stood a chance. That will be the theme for a little while. My version of Regina as a dethroned queen is also different, as I usually avoid her or write her as strong and not needing anything. So I hope I am doing her justice here._**

Killian had not spent much time aboard his ship since he had first met Emma, something not unnoticed by his crew. So late that night as he sat with three of his more trusted confidants, he could practically hear the chatter among the insignificant men in the other areas of the ship. Ignoring them, he drew in a deep breath and coated his tongue with the liquid fire of his flask. The taste of the rum did not change, a consistency that Killian valued in his life. He liked consistency, the never changing aspects of his life that he could count on without regard for anything else. Though he had heard many times never to drink alone, Killian saw no trouble with that vice. Alone you were not likely to say things, not likely to spill secrets or embarrass yourself with sloppiness of mind and tongue. So that was his intention when he returned to the Jolly Roger that night, hoping to find answers in the solitude of the room where he had spent more nights than humanly seemed possible. His men had other ideas.

Smee had already provided him a map, a detailed outlay of the way to get to the Dark One. The only thing crossing Killian's mind at that point was why they weren't already on their way. Well that and the needling voice that was wondering after Emma.

She had seemed so guarded after the revelation of his life. While she had not pushed him away, she had seemed almost nervous around him and jumped when he had offered his hand to her in way of saying good night. Then there was her brother, the spritely young thing with his big eyes and lopsided grin that somehow made Killian think of his own brother – long departed from the earth. The boy was a bundle of excitement, but more than that Killian could see a deep loyalty and love between the siblings despite their age difference.

"I know that all are anxious for us to go," the man at Killian's left said. He was a tall man, thin with a protruding nose that somehow reminded the pirate of a parrot. "But it isn't wise given the circumstances."

"And what circumstances would those be?" Killian asked, tipping the flask for more of the liquid. "I have little doubt that we can surely make this journey without an arsenal any larger than what we have."

"It's not the arsenal, sir," Smee answered, his glance to the other two men revealing his trepidation. "It is the other assets that have created a bit of a problem."

Leaving the flask on the table, Killian pinched the bridge of his nose and looked skyward for patience. "Will anyone just speak plainly about the issue? We have our men. We have our swords, pistols, and cannons too if needed. What the bloody hell do you think we're missing?" While described by most as a fair and impartial leader, Killian Jones was not a patient man when it came to such things. He expected his men to be at the ready and everything to be in place at a moment's notice.

"Our other assets – money – gold – we don't have much at this point. We don't even have adequate means to move the men into position so as to best…"

Killian groaned loudly, his hand running over his whiskered face with the intent of wiping away the blatant inadequacy he felt in that moment. The answer was as simple as deciding between not going after the Dark One and finding another means to fund their endeavor. "We should find some other means to a treasure," Killian told the men, as emotionlessly as if he had been delivering news of the weather. "There should be a caravan to rob or some poor sod to manipulate. Do I have to think of everything?"

Peters, the toucan nosed man with the gangly legs leaned forward. "We've been studying that, Captain," he said in a proud yet conspiratorial fashion. "A royal convoy is expected at the turn of the week, as it seems the King and Queen of Mist Haven have decided to do a bit of business in the village we are currently in. I dare say they rarely travel light, as they are departing from the estate of the King's father, probably carrying their weight in gold coin alone."

The other two men were nodding in solidarity and agreement as Killian rubbed his hand across his face. If Leo was to be believed at his word, that convoy was Emma's family. "I shall think about it," he said when the stares of the men became too inquisitive. "Leave me be."

Smee hung back from the others, licking his lips in anticipation. "Captain, I don't mean to upset you."

"Then don't."

"The men have noticed that you are taking less of an interest in the ship and their activities. Is there something the matter that we can help with, Captain? Some relic that you wish to possess? Some wench you have not been able to convince? I'm at a loss as to your needs right now, but I do wish to help."

"There's nothing for you to do at the moment but leave me be," the pirate answered darkly. "I have no business to share with you at the moment."

Smee's curt nod was accepted as he began to back away. "Will you be returning to the inn? The barmaid was asking about you. She might be…"

"I'll be staying here tonight," Killian answered, turning to look at the planked room. If he squinted he could see Liam standing there. "Alone."

His eyes falling shut, Killian dismissed the man without further conversation and made his way to his own quarters rather than the inn. It would feel good to feel the sway of the ship under him, rocking him to sleep as it had done since he was a child following his brother. There was no better lullaby than the creaking of the ship's boards, he told himself.

Stretching out on the bed that sat proudly in the corner of the room reserved for leaders, he stared at the carved boards above his head. The echo of Leo's words still haunted his memory, as did the concern on Emma's face when she returned from her tasks. He had not confronted her, though he mentally began to look for the clues and signs of her royal lineage. Both of them skittish and questioning, he had no desire to broach the subject in front of an audience of her brother and the Lucas women who were likely to be prowling about. So he had made his excuses and kissed the back of her hand, observing its softness in stark contrast to the women of the village. She was clearly not used to hard work, her hands bearing none of the callouses that were always present on those who made a living by their labor.

Why did it even matter, he thought rationally. She was a beautiful lass with a mysterious state about her. And he was a pirate. She had been accommodating to his attentions, but had clearly not welcomed them as he had hoped. She had barely let him touch her except in the rarest of moments, usually in such a way that he might assume she was pitying him. However, he had not quit trying. Even after she had looked at him with such pain at his dishonesty that he had felt the desire to fall to his knees and beg forgiveness.

The irony was that she seemed to harbor her own secret as to her identity, which could be just as harmful to him. It took very little to anger a royal when it came to propriety and decorum. He was calling her by her given name, something only the most brazen of fools would do. He had shared meals with her, teased her, come darn near trying to seduce her. The King would probably have his head for such familiarity with his daughter. Then there was the whole pirate title. He was quite sure that she was the daughter of the King who had come down hard against the pirating ways of men like Killian.

Killian knew better than to taunt a King, especially one has well-loved as David. Sure he and Snow had their detractors, those who were more prone to thoughts that they might be better suited for royalty. He could have nearly any woman he wanted from the barmaids he encountered to the daughters of some of his suppliers. And yet he laid there alone with the image of Emma in his head. He was a fool.

***AAA***

Red left before daybreak, her cloak fashioned over her shoulders and her dark hair peeking out from beneath the hood. Despite her age, Red had always preferred to wear her dark lochs down around her shoulders and back instead of in the tight styles that many of the more noble women wore. It wasn't all about the comfort for the dark haired beauty though. She wore her skirts a bit shorter and her bodices a bit tighter than most of the women of the village. Talk was frequent about her, especially when a woman caught her husband stealing a longing glance at the woman. But she was used to the talk.

Before leaving the cabin, she had seem Emma stirring about and watched sadly as the woman splashed a bit of water on herself before bundling herself up to go check on the chickens and eggs. Despite their different coloring, the young princess did remind Red of her dear friend. There was something about the softness of her movements and the determined cut of her jaw that were clearly from Snow.

"I don't think he will come back," Emma said with no sign of regret as she passed the dark haired woman. "He seemed quite ashamed of himself."

"He should be," Red agreed, eying the woman carefully. "But I do believe you are wrong. He'll be by to call upon you. I don't think he can help himself."

"He's not a concern," Emma said. "My parents will arrive soon and all will go back to the way it was. He's been very kind to me, but he is not aware of my family. I doubt that he would extend that kindness if he knew."

Red nodded, seeing the logic in Emma's thoughts. "Does that upset you?"

"No," the princess answered quickly. "I'm not upset."

Blaming her lack of an answer on Leo waking, Red kissed Emma's cheek before departing. The unsaid words hung in the air like a thick smoke. Thankfully Emma was busy bustling about the cabin with more domestic chores that she attempted to do quietly since Granny was supposed to be sleeping.

"My hearing isn't what it once was, but it's better than most people," Granny said as she emerged from the larger of the two bedrooms. She gave Leo a quick and sideways hug as she shuffled over to the fireplace to inspect the pot that Emma had been nursing. Declaring it adequate, she wound her way to inspect the milk that Emma had garnered from the goats and the rising dough for baking. "You're proving your mettle, your highness."

Emma flushed at the title and the compliment both, as she knew that Granny meant them both in a teasing way. While the tasks that the Lucas women performed with relative ease still seemed new and cumbersome to the young princess, she had to admit that she enjoyed seeing the culmination of her efforts. It felt worthwhile to do something with a tangible result, a thought she shared with Granny as she helped complete some of the mending that had been piling up for a few weeks.

"You do have some talent with a needle," the woman said as she held up the apron that Red had somehow torn a few days before. "If your course was not already laid out for you, I'd say it would serve you well."

"Needlework is an appropriate activity for a young lady in my position," Emma said in a mockingly haughty way. Then she frowned at her own sardonic response. "My parents have sought out opportunities for me so that I don't have to be a worthless little thing that waits to inherit the throne for my future husband to run."

"Your mother has the advantage of having lived as she did at your age," Granny commented. "I'm sure that influenced her. And your father did not always live as a gentleman either."

"It makes them more able to relate to their subjects," Emma said, repeating the often used phrase she had heard. "But sometimes that lack of pressure is a different kind of expectation all its own. They tell me that I don't have to marry someone of my own station, as it is more important to find love than political connection. But how should they expect that when I am only around those who would seek out an alliance with our kingdom by way of marrying me? They tell me that I don't have to attend court or complete finishing classes, but I see their disappointment when I don't."

The older woman looked like the picture of a grandmother with her knitting in her lap and the chair rocking to and fro in front of the fire. "Much is expected of you, Emma," she said in one of the kindest voices that Emma had ever heard her use. "I can't say that it is fair, but it is how life has treated you. I know that you bear the weight of expectations with a heavy heart. You fear disappointing your parents and your kingdom, but, my dear, that is not the greatest challenge. You must learn to live so as not to disappoint yourself."

Emma smiled sadly, wadding up her latest task back into the basket and stretching. "I should check on Leo. He's outside right now gathering kindling for the fire, but I hate to leave him alone for long."

The older woman nodded absently. "Carry the basket out with you and check on the eggs? Some should be laid by now."

***AAA***

Killian listened as the three men from the night before gave updates on the plans, each expressing opinions about the route the royal caravan would take and how best to position the men for the siege. In truth he was only half listening as the morning sun shone through the windows and illuminated the table.

"We'll get the Dark One," Smee assured, eliciting the cheers of the other two men. "This will just be good practice for us. And it will certainly be great retribution against a king who aims to stamp us out."

There was no love for any royal from Killian Jones, whose brother's death could be traced back to a king. He had done all he could to ignore the ruling parties for as long as he could remember, fighting back only when necessary. Though King David's edicts against pirates had not actually placed a bounty on his head, Killian had felt the pressure mounting as people saw him as a possible means to a better life. "I have not given the order for this," Killian said with a hint of anger in his voice. "Do not collect our men until I…"

"The time is growing near," Peters warned, his head bobbing as though he was agreeing with some unseen and unheard entity. "We don't have much time…"

"Then I will hasten my decision," Killian said by way of dismissal. He was tired of talking about the caravan attack as though it was a nameless and faceless siege. It wasn't faceless to him though he had no direct recollection of the countenance of either the king or queen. He could picture Emma clearly, her beautiful features marring the plan that he would have just a week ago jumped at for simply the challenge of it.

The fact that he was calling her by her first name did not escape his sharp mind. Such familiarity could land him in far more trouble than any other crime. A future queen was almost a nameless article, guarded by soldiers and referred to in titles that took away her identity. Yet Emma was this warm creature with qualities that made him want to continue to get to know her. To reconcile the two seemed impossible.

***AAA***

The egg shells were smooth in her hand as she carefully placed each in her basket, the restless sounds of the birds around her. The scent of the hay and straw in the small hut that had been constructed as the keeping space for the chickens tickled her nose. She wrinkled it in an attempt to keep from sneezing.

"The Widow Lucas said I might find you here," Killian said, his voice light as he aimed not to startle her. To his surprise she didn't jump.

"Killian," she said, her voice giving away the surprise she did feel at his appearance. "I thought you'd stay in town today."

"I may have become accustomed to seeing you," he answered somewhat more fondly than he meant to say it. "I wished to speak to you, but last night did not seem the time." He stepped forward into the structure, reaching out his hand to grab one of the eggs she had missed. The delicate way that he placed it in her basket seemed at odds with the dangerous pirate's reputation.

"Thank you," she said, dipping her head in his direction. "What did you wish to say to me?"

His expression looked pained as she placed a cloth over the eggs and set them aside to replenish some of the straw. "Your brother is a talkative lad," he began. "He wanted to tell me of how he got the name of Leopold." Giving just enough pause to see if she reacted, he wet his lips to continue. "Your grandfather was King Leopold of Mist Haven. I believe he died before you were born."

She did not look up from her work, patting down the fresh straw with her hands as though it was the most interesting of tasks. "He and my grandmother Ava ruled for many years. She died before him and he followed some years later, leaving the throne to his wife." She recited it as though she was speaking of text from a history book.

"And now your parents," he added.

She nodded only once, stopping herself from turning toward him. "They came to power not long before I was born. So I suppose that answers your question."

"Aye, it does." He watched her for a moment longer, mesmerized by her slight movements and her unassuming grace. "I suppose I should have guessed. You are too much of a lady to have been like the others."

That statement made her turn to him finally, her eyes showing a silent plea for understanding. "I suppose that is a compliment."

He half smiled. "I feel as though I should bow to you. Or at least I should offer you an apology, your highness. I have been quite familiar with you and did not realize my faux pas. I hope that you can forgive my transgression."

Her eyes closed briefly and her mouth grew tighter. "No apology needed. I told you to call me Emma, which you did with my permission. I can see no other liberties that you took without my condoning it."

"Be that as it may, I doubt that anyone else would think that it was proper for me to even be here alone with you. I must say, you are different than any royal I have ever met. I should hope that you keep that about yourself."

From his way of speaking she realized his intention and swallowed back the feelings bubbling inside her. It had only been days since they had met, hardly enough time for them even to know each other thoroughly. His departure should not hurt, but in some way it did. "You have been very kind to me, Killian," she said with her chin tilted up to show her strength.

"It was of no hardship for me," he said, avoiding her name or any affectionate nickname that might seem out of place. "I hope that I made your time here easier."

The sounds of the morning grew louder in her ears as she gathered the basket back over her arm and headed out of the coop into the yard. "I won't keep you," she said as he followed. "I'm sure that you have much to do."

"Your highness, I…"

"Don't," she said, offering her sad smile. "I much prefer it when you call me Emma, despite what others might think. And I much preferred it before you knew of my title."

He stopped in his walking, but she took another few steps before she noticed and spun to face him. "I think I better than anyone can understand your reasons for hiding your true self from me. We've both been less than candid with each other about it."

She readjusted the basket though it was in no danger of slipping. "Would you have continued to even speak to me if you had known? Especially in light of your own secret? Granny and Red warned that I might be in more danger if I had let you know, but that wasn't the reason for my deception. You did not treat me as a princess. You treated me as someone who was on level with everyone. It was a refreshing change and I thank you for that. I liked that you weren't bowing to me or guarding your words so that you might win favor with my father."

"It must be quite exhausting to be treated that way." The edge to Killian's voice sounded almost sardonic, though his eyes remained soft and kind. "But I am glad you know that I would not have hurt you no matter your royal claim. I only wished to get to know you."

The light breeze that seemed so cold after the sunset lifted her hair as it rustled through the newly forming leaves. Maybe it was that gentle caress that made her a little more bold. "And now you don't?"

"Emma, I…" He stopped realizing he had called her by her name again, the two syllables falling from his lips with an ease that should not have been there. She grinned at the sound. "Not to sound obtuse, but what is it that you wish of me?"

She held her breath, blinking against the first thought that came to her mind. "I wish to know better you as well. Our time is certainly limited, but I have enjoyed your stories. I trust that you might have more."

Scratching the tip of his finger at the soft spot where his jaw and neck met, Killian nodded thoughtfully. "A pirate is usually chockfull of tales of the sea. If you wish to be entertained with them, I am in no position to deny that."

***AAA***

Granny did not seem that surprised that Killian stayed on after the conversation that she may have overheard through an open window. Her stern demeanor was still evident even when she had Leo set an extra place at the table that Killian stared at in wonder.

"Did you think that I would have you eat in the yard with the pigs and goats?" she asked, her skirts swishing as she moved toward the cellar. Killian hurried ahead of her to open the door and to fetch what she was after before she made the trek. When he returned Emma grinned.

"I think she might like you."

The pirate looked astounded. "The Widow Lucas?"

"She has not tossed you out," Emma pointed out to him. "And she has invited you to sit at her table."

"For pulling weeds in her garden. Nothing more." She noticed then that his confidence was not as deep seated as he liked to let on. He seemed quite unsure when someone complimented him, gave him credit or otherwise were positive toward him in some way.

"Perhaps," Emma said, looking for her brother who had run off again. Leo had excitedly asked Killian to sit next to him, telling Emma and Granny both very loudly that the pirate was there as his friend.

The lunch was quite simple in terms of food, but Leo kept the group entertained with his chatter that neglected the rules of proper behavior. Children, according to most homes of substance at that time, had pointed out that children should be seen and not heard. But the three adults around the Lucas table could not help laughing at the precocious boy. When Leo began to describe his sister's nightly habits of sneaking into the library, Killian laughed so hard at the imitation that he began to choke.

"Perhaps it is drinking something other than rum that has you flustered." Granny scolded him in jest. "That goat's milk seems too strong for you."

Emma couldn't resist the smile as Killian took another gulp of the sweet white liquid and declared it the finest that he had ever had to the great amusement of the older woman. "I have been meaning to add more of it to my diet," he answered.

As was her custom, Granny was the one to declare the meal over, pushing back from the table with a soulful groan. "I believe it is time for my afternoon nap," she declared, her hands busily unknotting her hair and letting it fall in silvery waves around her. "What are your plans for the afternoon, Emma?"

The blonde woman was attempting to wipe up some of the spilled food her brother had left behind when she realized the question was directed at her. "Red told me to work in the garden spot for a bit. I will start on some of the tilling."

Granny's face scrunched in denial of this task. "You will surely hit the rocks with your tools," she sneered. "I would rather sleep in peace."

Killian watched the exchange thoughtfully, his own mind racing through the possibilities. He knew that Smee and the other men were awaiting his directives and that he should make his way back to town. However, he seemed unable to fully abandon the princess who had so sweetly asked him to stay. "I noticed that some of the wild berries were beginning to grow on the path to the north," he suddenly said to the widowed woman. It had been years since he had noticed such things and was unsure why he was paying attention now. "If they would permit me, I could escort Emma and Leo on an expedition to bring some back. They might make for a good dessert."

"You know about berries?" Emma asked, her question obvious though she did not comment on his status as a pirate. "I thought you would not be as much use on land."

"Though it might feel that way at times, I have not always been at sea."

Granny swept up her skirts into her fisted hands and nodded. "I think that it sounds like a fine idea." Her eyes darkened and her voice became deeper as she looked at Killian. "And I trust, Captain that I shall not have to hunt you down should Emma and Leo come to any harm?" She was not feigning her fierceness though Emma could certainly see the weariness in her eyes.

"I promise, milady, I will watch out for them both as if they were my own."

***AAA***

Regina threw the dress toward the trunk, ignoring the fact that two handmaidens had to dive for it to retrieve the heavy fabric that melted to the floor. Her movements were hurried and still graceful as she combed through the tall wardrobe for those items she would need. Her voice was frantic as she shouted orders at them.

"Regina, what is the matter?" Robin asked, entering the room in fast stride around the bed to where his wife was standing. "The staff are all in an uproar that you are packing to leave? Did you plan to tell me?"

The man who most had viewed only a few years earlier as a common thief stood in the former queen's dressing chamber with his hands bracing her shoulders. He'd been away for a few days on a scouting mission of sorts, looking for word on the family his first wife had left behind when she had elected to marry him. As Robin's son grew, he realized that family connection was more important than he could have ever imagined. They had never met their grandson and though he harbored some resentment, Robin had realized he was reluctant to allow young Roland to grow up without that connection. To come home to find his second wife packing and the staff talking of abandoning what had been a royal castle had taken Robin by surprise.

"I wasn't leaving you," she said, her expression still angry but her tone laced with fear and doubt. "I have to protect Henry."

Regina jerked away from his touch, turning to the large beveled glass windows. She hoped that he would understand with those five words, as Robin had on more than one occasion told her that it was his most important duty was to Roland and her son Henry. "What has happened?"

She closed her eyes, falling back against the wall as he surmised their need for privacy correctly. Dismissing the help, he turned back to her and said her name a little louder this time. "Regina, tell me what is wrong."

"He's coming for him," Regina said, her voice barely heard over the heaviness of her breath. "He's going to take him away."

"Who?"

While Robin stepped closer to his wife, Regina wrenched herself away again, beginning to pace across the room. "I can't say his name. I can't risk summoning him. But he will take Henry from me. He'll..It's not safe here. He's never going to let it be safe for us."

"You're not making any sense." Robin his hand up his face and through his light colored hair. "Talk to me. Tell me what is the matter."

"The Dark One," Regina said, her hands shaking and shoulders slumping forward. "He's coming for Henry. He warned me."

Robin reached for her again, hoping to pull her into a comforting embrace that would at least bring out a sensible explanation. She would not have it, seeming to not seek out his touch. "Why would he have claim to your son? Did you make a deal with him? Regina? What did you do?"

The dark haired woman's eyes were just has chocolate brown, even with the tears falling from them. "I…Henry is not mine," she said with a sad sigh of resignation. "The Dark One helped me to find him, to become his mother, but I did not carry him within me. He's not truly my son."

"Regina," Robin said in what she interpreted as an admonishment. "You're raising another woman's son? You are doing that with Roland. Why would you not tell me?" He looked in the direction of the nursery where the two boys slept and played. Their blood different, the two were being raised as brothers would be. One of the things that Robin had loved most about Regina was her willingness to take on that role with Roland, whose mother was dead and father lost in his attempts to parent alone.

"I wanted to be a mother. I wanted something and someone in my life who was mine and not…I asked the Dark One to make it possible and he brought me this beautiful baby boy who I love as much as if he could be mine truly. And now he wants me to pay."

***AAA***

Emma watched Killian showing her young brother which berries were safe to pick and which should be skipped. There was no doubt that the man's knowledge was impressive and very surprising. When he approached her as she picked a few of her own, he frowned with deep lines along his forehead. "I don't believe you need my assistance."

She dropped a few of the berries into the lined basket and smiled up at him. "My mother," she explained. "For a while she lived as a bandit. Such knowledge was required of her for that time. She taught me on our walks when I was a child."

"I have heard tales of that time in her life," Killian said, racking his brain for the stories he had forgotten. "She met the Lucas women then."

Emma nodded affirmatively as she noted her brother digging into the berries in the basket that he had been carrying. "I'm afraid my brother may eat your bounty before we return."

Killian chuckled, looking at Leo as though the boy might in fact be a spy before reaching into his pocket. There he pulled out a handkerchief that was filled with a rounded pile of the red and pink berries. Dumping them into Emma's basket, he smiled conspiratorially at her and with whispered tone told her that he was prepared for such an event. "Perhaps you will be so kind as to be the keeper."

The trio continued on for a bit until Emma's basket became heavy and Leo's nearly empty. It was then that Killian suggested a rest, finding Emma a log to sit upon as he and Leo pulled up patches of the newly green grass instead. "I'll miss this," she said as her brother could no longer sit still and went in search of a treasure that Killian had said he was sure was buried nearby. Emma could see the young boy darting between the trees and calling out the clues he was sure he was finding.

"What will you miss?" Killian asked. He was still reluctant to call her by her name, but at least not calling her by her title. "Surely not the berries."

"This," she said, spreading a hand out to gesture around. "I rarely leave the palace and when I do it is with guards, chaperones, and assistants. One can hardly think for herself with all those voices offering advice – solicited or not."

He tilted his head and for a moment she thought he might ridicule her for pushing away such luxury when so many were in desperate need. He didn't. "Aye," he said slowly. "Living on a ship is not a place for privacy either. Other than my own cabin, I find myself plagued with the voices and opinions of others. It does wear on the soul to be responsible for the happiness of others." His dimples seemed deeper than they usually sat as he smiled. "Though I do believe you may have the greater responsibility of pleasing a kingdom when I must only consider the men on my ship."

"It is not a contest," Emma said.

He wrapped his arms over his folded knees, still looking at her with his head tilted to the side. "And other than the quiet and solitude, is there anything else you might miss?"

"I will miss Granny and Red," Emma admitted. "My mother's letter arrived by bird this morning and said we will be making haste for the castle. I always miss them when I am away. When I was a child I swore I would run away and live with Red and Granny in their cabin. I could imagine nothing so lovely as that freedom." She reached into the basket and under the cloth to pull out the folded parchment. "My mother is a beautiful writer. Most people treasure her letters."

He noted the sadness in her voice. "And you, my dear?"

"I look for the hidden meaning." Placing the still folded paper between her fingers, she held it out to him. "I am sure she means more than she writes."

He accepted it reluctantly, not unfolding the letter in front of her as she stood and walked toward the line of trees and called to her brother who did not immediately answer. Turning quickly to look back at him, her skirts rustled and swayed with the movement. "Do you write letters, Killian?"

He was staring hard at the folded paper in his hand, so hard he almost didn't hear her. "I have not in many years unless they were necessary."

She nodded slowly, trying to piece together her next statement. "I have fallen into the habit of it myself. I write to my friends in Arrendale, the Queen Elsa and her sister Princess Anna. We have become all the closer for the correspondence. So when we see each other it is as though we just continue the conversation we have been writing."

If he caught her hint, he showed no indication. "I'm afraid that living at sea as much as I do, I have not found such correspondence to be very reliable."

Emma seemed undeterred, calling out for her brother again. "My mother has trained birds to deliver her letters. Much faster and far less risk than the post that can take so long. Perhaps…" She dropped off as her brother came back into view, the knees of his pants covered in dirt and his hands as well.

"If I was to write to you, would you care to read my letters, Emma?" He sounded as nervous as a schoolboy asking a young lass the same question. "Or would you throw them in the fire with others from unrequited admirers?"

She pushed back the long blonde hair over her shoulder and smiled shyly at him. "I would probably keep them close to me and respond as quickly as my fingers would find the words to reply."


	7. Chapter 7

_**I want to sincerely thank you for your comments and questions about this fic. Each notification that people are favoriting, following, giving kudos or leaving a comment just cements my determination.**_

 _ **I am thrilled that people liked the conversation of the last chapter. I hope you like this one as well.**_

 _ **I probably won't have another chapter for you until Saturday, as I have a day full of meetings at work and a dinner date with the husband tomorrow night. So I don't think posting will be on my mind.**_

 _ **Previous Chapters – AO3 and**_

Killian made it back to the village blacksmith shop before the sun had lowered too much in the sky, his face a bit flushed from both the sun and the exertion of walking so quickly. He had not yet seen to his hook, having found that he was not completely lost without it. Certainly the ache of the missing hand had not gone away. However, the hook was more of a weapon and ornament than an actual appendage.

The blacksmith's apprentice looked at Killian with awe as the pirate snapped the curved metal piece into place on his brace. "That is better than a hand," the boy, who was probably no more than 14, said with wonderment. "I think I should like one."

"I think that would not be a good trade," Killian said. "A hand is far more useful and better for most any task save breaking ice."

"It must scare people," the boy said, still not deterred.

"Respect isn't built on fear," Killian mumbled as he tossed a few coins in the direction of the apprentice, including a hefty tip for the trouble.

Looking down at the silvery protrusion, he ran a ringed finger over the curve and grimaced at it. He'd had it for centuries now, longer than he'd actually had the hand. And for the first time in as long he felt it didn't belong there. It was heavy and awkward. He had noted that Emma had not said anything more of his missing hand, treating him as though it was not an issue. She touched his forearm where the brace and skin combined. His left side no different to her than his right. But could she ignore something as obvious as a hook?

"Is the fit not right?" the boy asked, suddenly aware that Killian had not left and there might be a job to do. "He did it himself and did not let me touch it. I swear."

"I believe the problem is me not the fit," Killian muttered.

***AAA***

Emma could feel what she assumed was judgment coming from Granny's eyes as she helped to knead the dough for the tarts that Granny planned to make with the berries she and Killian had picked with Leo. Her hands found consolation in the rhythmic movements on stretching and bending the mass of dough to her whims. It moved easily, soft and billowing under her finger tips.

"Emma," the older woman said, lining the pans with some of the already kneaded dough and then the berries that had been marinating in a bit of sugar and molasses. "Do you care for him?"

Thrusting her fist into the dough that would cover each of the tarts, Emma pretended to consider the question. "I enjoy his company," she said somewhat weakly, her cheeks warming with the not too revealing confession. "He's kind to me."

Granny nodded again, her mind clearly turning over this coin of information in her head. "So he won't be going to your parents when they arrive? I might like to see how he could manage that." Her eyes twinkled as she imagined the scene that both knew would never play out with Killian making small talk with David. It was a scene that had played out over the years without Emma's consent, men approaching her father about courting her. However, she had refused each of them with the support of her parents who agreed that those men weren't ready or right.

"I don't believe that is necessary," Emma said, beginning to separate the dough. "He's hardly interested in me in such a way. He's simply polite and kind." She wasn't about to tell Granny that he had said he would write to her, as she wasn't sure how to talk about that subject without making it more than it probably was in her mind. Granny finished the task of baking the tarts after Emma successfully lit the fire in the wood burning oven. She was cleaning up the bits of spilled flour when she heard a soft moan from Granny. "What's wrong?"

"Red should be here by now," the woman said, rubbing her arm with vigor as though it ached too much for her to stand. "I should go to fetch her. She could be in a bad way." The woman staggered a bit, her face contorting in obvious pain.

"No, Granny, there is no need to worry. She's fine. I'm sure. But I will go to see to her. You stay here with Leo." Before the woman could protest, Emma was wrapping a cloak around herself and warning her brother to stay out of trouble as she hurried along the rocky path back to town. Without her brother to slow her and Killian to distract her, the journey seemed long and Emma began to wonder if she had made a wrong turn when she finally saw the outline of the buildings in the distance. There had been no sign of Red along the way, no indication that any malady had befallen her. As such, Emma was not surprised to find Red behind the bar at the pub with her hands busily pouring drinks for the patrons.

"Granny's worried?" the woman asked as Emma approached. "She is quite overprotective when it comes to me, but I fear she worries more that I am not fulfilling my responsibilities." She flashed a smile at one of the men leaning on the bar, sliding a cup to him.

"Why are working at the bar?" Emma asked, looking about the room for the younger Lily who usually held that station. "Where is Lily?"

"Out for a while. She asked for a reprieve, which has apparently delayed me to the point that you came looking." Red wiped her hands on her apron and spoke to another of the staff. "If you wait a few moments, I'll gather my things. We can walk back together."

Emma took a step backwards, ignoring the rising voices of two of the men arguing. With a quick roll of her eyes, Red stepped between the two, placing a hand on each of them and attempting to soothe them. It did not work as they argued around her, voices rising and fists flailing. Red yelled for her to step out, protecting her from what could usually be seen nightly once the spirits began to flow a bit too freely.

Emma stepped into the subdued outdoors with the sun hanging low and a muted palate greeting her eyes. She could see the ships in the harbor just a few feet from where she stood, their collective sight almost overwhelming as she realized the pure size of it. Her feet carried her in that direction, as the last time she had been there she had not realized Killian's own ship was within feet of her. She was curious about it, wondering about his life aboard it. Was it as cramped and busy as he said? Where did he eat? Where did he sleep? She had been on a few voyages with her family, but none had piqued her interest in such a way.

It might not be proper for a woman to visit a man without invitation or without a chaperone, but Emma realized that she and Killian had hardly been following many of the societal rules. He had touched her hand. They had both spoken without formal titles and done so without the watchful eyes of someone to protect her reputation. Her mother, while certainly more progressive than other royal mothers, would probably be scandalized by Emma's behavior.

The men who usually bustled about these ships were all away either at the pub or below deck having their meals. Those who were out looked upon her appreciatively, some even making low but still heard remarks about her hair, skin, and general appearance. She blushed at their attention and hurried past them toward the ship she knew by description must be Killian's. It seemed peculiar to rush toward a pirate for protection, but Emma did not attempt to analyze why she did feel oddly comfortable and safe with him.

***AAA***

Killian turned the parchment over in his hand, staring at the careful folds and creases in it. It belonged to Emma but she had left it in his hand in either neglect or for some reason he had not completely understood. A personal letter from mother to daughter should not interest him, but a letter from the Queen detailing the route they would be taking with a caravan that included weapons, gold, and other valuable items was of interest to a pirate.

His back rested against the smooth boards of the boat's stern, the rise and fall of it in the choppy waters massaging him. If the men knew of the letter in his possession, he had no doubt they would pounce upon it like animals onto a meal. But he could not help but see Emma's expression as she mentioned her mother's writing. She had not been thinking of the danger that it posed for him to know the details, as her focus had been on the fact that she would be leaving.

"You didn't want a drink this evening?" the familiar voice of the pub's barmaid said saucily as she approached him. "I noticed your absence and came to find you."

He did not even look up as he stuffed the paper into his pocket and stood awkwardly to face Lily. "Good evening," he said. "I wasn't aware that absence was noticed since I have not been around much."

Lily pulled a small flask from the overskirt she was wearing. Her head tilted and mouth slightly open, she pushed it toward him. "I would think you needed this. I don't know of any pirate who doesn't cherish his nightly beverages. This is my own personal stash, but I don't mind sharing."

His blue eyes blinked back at her, trying to remember what it was about her that had struck him as strange. She was beautiful, but there was a hardness to her that was not that appealing. Moreover, there was an emptiness in her that seemed to grow. "I think I have enough here, but thank you for your offer." His balance seemed off as she stepped forward, still holding the flask in her hand and the other on the thin material of his shirt.

"You sure?" she asked. "I don't mind." Her hand trailed down his chest slowly. "Or perhaps you don't need much in the way of liquid courage."

Her mouth was inches from his, a position that he had found himself in before. There was no pull, no inertia that drove him to close the gap. That did not stop her as her cold lips hit against his, ignoring his move backward by following him.

***AAA***

Emma saw Lily move toward him, the kiss appearing mutual from her vantage point. If her foot had not slipped and almost landed her on the deck of the ship, she might have turned to run. Instead, the white hot energy that hummed under her skin seemed to percolate and her eyes closed to the scene in front of her as she felt her stomach churn. As the green eyes opened again Lily was at least five feet away from Killian whose hand wiped at his mouth and nose wrinkled in response.

"Emma," he said, catching sight of her spinning to face the gangplank. "Emma!"

She stopped, not facing him but not running either. Fingers digging into her palms, she was trying to tell herself that she had no reason for worrying about his behavior. "I was waiting on Red and thought I would say hello…" She broke off. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

Lily's shoulder brushed against her as the darker haired woman exited the ship without a word of warning or explanation. However, Emma did not watch the way she hurried back to the pub and out of their line of sight as she studied the aged wood as though it might have some deeper meaning.

"Emma, I didn't invite her here," he said, surmising that the woman's state was due to a form of jealousy. "I was actually sitting here contemplating something and she showed up quite unannounced and uninvited."

Biting at her lip, Emma willed herself to turn around. "And yet you kissed her?"

"I'm not used to making excuses, but she kissed me," Killian explained. "I…" He held off, her face revealing that she did not want to know what he was about to say to her.

"I shouldn't have asked," Emma said. "It was as I said. I came to fetch Red for Granny and had a moment. I thought I might see you and see your ship. It was a silly idea." She was flustered, which he had to admit to himself was an endearing trait as she placed the back of her hand over her mouth.

"You came to see me?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow. "I am flattered."

Her eyes lifted up in an arch and her hand dropped back down to her side. "It means very little," she said. "You have been quite kind to visit me and to keep me company. I thought I might repay the social calls you have made. And to see your ship."

His eyebrow lowered slowly as if weighed down by her dismissive words. "I see," he said. "Would you care for a tour? I am sure that might satisfy your curiosity about my ship."

Rocking back on the heels of her shoes, she looked around him in a way that she pretended to look for Lily. "I thought you might be too busy entertaining a guest."

"Aye? Well, I would hazard a guess that Lily has visited this ship and others like it before. But I have no interest in entertaining or being entertained by her, especially if you wish for a tour. I do have a question for you though, if I might?"

She swallowed back, her eyes offering permission for his question. "Go ahead," she said a bit shakily.

"Before…Lily flew backwards as if by some force. And before that I somehow came back to you through some other means than my own feet." He paused, his scrutiny drifting to the way her hands clenched and unclenched in anxious harmony.

"Those are not questions, Killian." She breathed in the sea air sharply. "And I don't believe I should have this discussion here on deck with the ears of your crew alert."

"Forgive me," he said, offering his bent arm to her. "If I may, I'll escort you on your tour."

She smiled in reprieve, as his words had indicated he would not press her on the issue. Staring at his right arm that he was offering, she took in a breath and moved to his left side where she looped her right arm through is handless left arm. "Lead the way, Captain Jones."

"I don't believe anyone has ever called me that before. My brother was Captain Jones. I'm merely Killian or there is my colorful moniker of Hook."

She thought about that for a beat before looking down at the curved instrument. "Your brother was a captain? In the navy or as a pirate?" He had only briefly referred to a brother before, remarking more than a few times that he was now without a family other than his crew. She had felt sad for him, knowing through her mother's experience at losing her family so young how that might feel.

"The Royal Navy, love. My brother was no pirate." He could have told her his own rank then, assured her there was something other than a pirate inside him, but he didn't. He told himself that if such a man still existed in him that it was buried too far now to ever reach again.

Leading her along the deck, he pointed out a few features and encouraged her to touch and try a few different things. Her smile as she grasped the ship's wheel as though piloting her was reminiscent of her brother's. He shared that observation with her as they descended the ladder into the lower level.

"Perhaps you might show him the same tour sometime?" she asked. "He's quite fond of ships and the sea. At least in theory."

Killian proudly showed off the ship's interior and the cramped but comfortable quarters of his crew. When Emma asked where he slept, she blushed alongside of him at the boldness of her question but still followed along as he showed her the larger captain's quarters. Letting go of his arm again, she circled the room with her finger touching the seasoned wood and the brass décor. Her eyes fell upon a leather bound book on a shelf, the royal insignia of another kingdom tarnished and faded on its cover. She leaned toward it, her eyes squinting and her fingers running along the barely readable words. "Was this your brother's?"

Killian's breath caught in his chest to see her caught in the pastel glow of the sunset through the high widows of the cabin. It seemed to give her golden hair a glow and her skin a soft radiance that he had to tell himself not to touch. "No," he said quietly. "It was mine."

"You were a lieutenant then?" she asked, raising her head from the dusty volume to see if she was correct.

"Aye."

"You look young enough to be one now," Emma said. Her tone was not teasing but inquisitive. "Quite an accomplishment for a young man. I am sure your brother was proud of you for your hard work and dedication."

"My brother's reputation aided me in the commission and promotion," he answered quietly. "It was a long time ago, love. Far longer than you could imagine."

Straightening in her place she looked toward him and recognized the formal way she had seen him stand with his feet uniformly in place and his arms behind his back as if completing an inspection. She had been around enough of her father's troops and their demonstrations to identify the familiar poses and actions. "I envision you in your uniform must have been quite a sight and very handsome."

He tried not to think of himself in that uniform, the itch of the wool in the winter and the time spent shining the buttons to perfect gleaming. "It has been a long time."

"So you said," she quipped turning back toward the bed with the drawers beneath it. "Is that where you keep them? Your trinkets and souvenirs of all the love affairs in the different ports?" She blushed faintly again. "I probably shouldn't ask."

"Your question is fine, Emma," he said, crossing the few steps to the bed and pulling one of the drawers open to reveal blankets and nothing more. "See? I'm not a sentimental man."

She begged to differ, but he was not offering much at that moment. So she could play along with the idea that he was without true emotion. "But you do have love affairs in all the different ports?"

His grin was lopsided as he regarded her cautiously. "Did you imbibe on your trip to the pub for Red? I can think of no other reason for your boldness, love."

Shaking her head, she took a step back from him. "I do apologize. I have just wanted to know more about you. I suppose I overreached." She frowned with concern. "I only wondered because you and Lily. I wondered if she was like the others. If they all meant nothing?" Her hand reached up to hover near the neckline of the dress she wore, fingers touching the gathered edge.

"Women like her are not all that unique," he said with a feigned note of nonchalance. "Any port has a barmaid, a server, a baker's daughter, or a dozen others who throw themselves and their dignity to men they think can bring adventure. I suppose I shouldn't, but I do respond in favor, but Emma, I assure you that there is no romance or love affair about it. I could never love a woman so critical of herself to think she deserved nothing better."

"That seems sad," she perceived. "To always want something from someone to the point of throwing all your life away for the chance at it. You must pity them."

"No, I don't pity anyone other than those who dare to cross me," he said with his most menacing look that quickly softened. "They are beautiful women, but I don't really know them."

She measured that idea, her face contorting with the effort of it. "Do you try to know them at all?"

"No," he answered quickly.

"But you want to know me?"

"Aye, that I do."

She nodded as though expecting that answer. "But you have kissed and held them without that knowledge of their thoughts and lives? Is that why you have never kissed me? Because you are trying to know me first?" The cheek of that question was even stronger than before and made his jaw drop that the princess would ask that. He was not even sure she had been kissed before, though she most certainly had.

"I don't think that is a fair-minded question to ask a man, especially standing in his quarters only feet from his bed, love. But to be honest, I suppose you do have a fair point there."

She accepted his answer to her bold question as permission to continue. "Do you wish to kiss me?"

His eyebrows could not raise any higher as she asked him that, the gentle way she swayed so that her skirts rustled out the only sound. "Aye, of course, but I never intended to do so without your consent," he said slowly. "You deserve better than that."

"Better?"

"You deserve better than a stolen kiss because I could not control myself. You should be hearing me tell you of my admiration of you, not worrying that I might take things too far and compromise you."

"I see," she said dejectedly. "I only wondered…"

"If you should wish, I will kiss you, Emma," he said. "I would like nothing more."

Her head angled to the right as she took a swaying step forward. "I would like that too, Killian."

Maybe he was worried that she might change her mind or that he might lose his nerve, but what should have been a slow descent was more of a crash. Yet it did not stop the gentleness of it, the softness of his lips against hers and ever so slight movement against her. The kiss was almost as feathery as a breath before waking up, its intensity more centered.

He might have pulled back, not attempted to deepen the kiss if she had not molded her body to his. The material of the dress she had borrowed from Red was thin with years of wear and he could feel her body contract with each breath. Her arms draped over his shoulders and one of her hands found the tufts of hair at the base of his neck where her fingers dug in.

It was with no thought that his hook rested at the small of her back, luckily avoiding damaging the fabric and his hand blended into her long, thick tresses of hair, his thumb making half circles against her cheek. She was flush against him, making him mad with the quiet sounds she emitted and the way her other hand glided to his chest where her fingers tapped in cadence with his heart. His eyes were closed but he could have sworn he saw flashes of white light around him. But in the end all that mattered was her in his arms.

***AAA**

Emma knew as Killian walked with her off of the ship that Red would be suspicious of where she had been. Though the woman would probably not chastise her, there would be questions as to what she had been up to and why she had disappeared. She told Killian as much as she stopped at the edge of the dock where it met the land. "I have probably caused her to worry."

"I could speak to her if you wish," he said. "Your tardiness is my fault."

"I think we are both to blame." She ducked her head as he lifted at the gate to allow them back onto the path. Her shoulder brushed against his and she still clung to his arm a bit tighter than she meant to do. "Thank you. For the tour I mean."

"I enjoyed it myself," he admitted, angling himself to face her. He didn't think about it, but his hand reached out to tuck a curl of her blonde hair behind her ear. If anyone saw such a tender moment, she would not be thought of well. However, she leaned into his touch rather than flinching and he did not mar the moment with an apology. "Would you care for me to walk you and Red home for the evening? It is growing dark."

"I am capable of navigating our way home," Red said, interrupting them. Her expression was firm, but the woman clearly was watching Emma's reaction more than Killian's. "Thank you though. I suppose the two of you amused each other while I dealt with the unpleasantness at the pub."

Emma lowered her head in a show of apology to her mother's friend with a meek yes. However, Killian was not sure what the woman meant by unpleasantness. He did not have to ask, as Red quickly told of the two men's actions. "They are from your crew," she alerted him. "I suggest you have words with them before they are welcome in my pub again."

"Of course," Killian assured her. "Please accept my apology for anything they may have done. Is there anything I can do…"

Red held up her hand to Killian, though her steely eyes did not leave Emma's flushed face. "I believe Emma and I will walk back now. I'm sure that Granny and Leo are wondering about us."

Killian took one of Emma's hands in his own, dropping a kiss onto it with a grin that made her wish Red was not standing right there. "I won't keep you any longer. Perhaps I can see you tomorrow though, Emma?"

She glanced toward Red with a hopeful expression that even her mother's hardened friend had to admit was adorable. "I think that Emma will be working with Granny at the pub again tomorrow. You might be able to see her there."

Killian dipped his head to both women, dropping Emma's hand and bidding them goodnight as he turned back to the ship with a military precision that made the princess laugh. "Good night Lieutenant Jones," she called to him only to hear his groan of disapproval.

 _ **Thoughts?**_


	8. Chapter 8

**_Thank you for your patience in letting me take yesterday off for work and a little date night with the hubby. It did me a world of good with everything I have going on in my life._**

 ** _Your reviews and comments have been very kind and motivational. I love to read them and even laughed out loud at a few while I snuck a peek at them during my meetings yesterday._**

 ** _I have not given much information about the Henry situation, but this chapter offers a few more clues. It also explains how I am going to meld what is going on with Regina with the rest of the Charmings, including Emma._**

Moonlight found its way through the small places where the shutters and the windows did not meet, as Emma readied herself for sleep and waited for the inevitable lecture about having been unaccompanied on Killian's ship. As if performing a dance, Red avoided the tiny shards of moonlight as gracefully as she could. She was on the far side of the room folding the blanket into a perfect square, setting it on the bed with a soft plop as Emma stood to the side brushing her hair. The two women had barely spoken since their walk back from town, keeping what conversation they did have light and without much meaning.

"I'm worried about Granny," Emma admitted, the blonde of her hair glowing with the light of the crackling fire in the other room. "She seems rather…"

Spinning to face her guest, Red shook her head vehemently. "That's not what this is about, Emma. You claim that you were devastated to risk your reputation, your parents' reputation by what happened with Baelfire, but yet today you were alone with Killian on his ship. Do you know how that looks? How people might perceive that as something more? Emma, I know you like him, but you cannot behave this way. People talk. And you…"

Her skin growing pale with the subject, Emma sat on the edge of Ruby's bed. She pulled her knees to her chin and hugged them to her. "I behaved horribly," she said, her voice cracking. "I know that. I know that I should have never gone there. It was just a kiss though."

The groan from Red sounded as though Emma had struck her in the stomach with her fist. "A kiss? Emma, you are not like other women. You may come from progressive parents, but you aren't free to dally with just any man you please. Your father has made it his mission to banish pirates from this kingdom. How do you think he's going to react that you were kissing a pirate? He'll never allow you or your brother to visit again." She made a tsking sound with her tongue. "They want more for you than some pirate who moons after you like a lovesick pup. I could see he has feelings for you. A blind man could see that, but Emma, do you have feelings for this man? Are you actually… I told Granny that we should stop this before it went too far."

Emma grasped her hug around her legs tighter as she watched Red sit across from her. "I care for him, Red," she said softly. "But I know that this won't last. I am to leave soon and he will forget all he knows of me. I think that was perhaps why I went. I wanted to feel like it could last. I wanted to feel like this wasn't some fleeting moment that I would look upon fondly after I'm married to some prince and producing an heir."

"You don't have to be ashamed," Red told her, daring a reach out to her arm consolingly. Emma accepted the gesture. "I can understand how you would feel something for him. He is quite handsome and he's been very kind to you. Such attention is not often given to a woman by a man if there is no intention behind it. But as lovely as that feeling might be, you must consider the repercussions. Anyone seeing you come off that ship on his arm with the way you two looked upon each other, it was clearly obvious that there is more behind your visit than a polite social call."

Closing her eyes, Emma tried not to let the tingle that her lips still felt sway her as listened to the other woman's warning. "I apologize, Red. I shouldn't have done that. I should have considered your reputation too."

The dark haired woman laughed at that, so loud that she might have woken Granny and Leo for the noise. "I have damaged my own reputation beyond repair, but I do worry about yours. You cannot afford for people to think of you in such a manner." Though older now, Emma could still see the great beauty in Red's angled face and her large eyes that seemed so bright in contrast to the thick dark main of hair. Her skin was a soft and fair color, beautifully and impossibly soft. Men flocked to her, which she appreciated but did not indulge to the point of a relationship. Many times she had told Emma that some people were not meant for true love when others were born for it.

"All the same, I came here to help and I have made a mess of things," Emma said, explaining quickly about Lily's appearance on the ship.

"That does complicate matters," Red said, standing back up and pacing the floor as she thought. "I suppose we should have you with a chaperone tomorrow until your parents return."

Emma frowned, feeling again that she was being more of a bother than a help. "Is it necessary? I will stick strictly to my work. I won't disappear or do anything rash."

"I think it is the best solution," Red said with a firm nod in agreement with herself. "I'll speak to Granny about it in the morning." She looked at the closed door, the wooden beam that could barricade it was in the up position. "Emma, please know that I think it is great you have found someone you like. It's only your reputation that is of concern to me. Your parents are progressive, but I hardly think they would approve of this. "Most young women in your position only kiss the man they are betrothed to. And while the Captain is certainly enamored with you, I doubt he is proposing marriage."

Emma lowered her legs so that her bare fit touched the smoothed wooden floor. "I've already shamed them in that way what with Baelfire and the baby…" Her voice cracked and she felt the salty tears forming. "I'm always a fool."

"Emma, loving someone doesn't make you a fool. It makes you a good person, a person capable of love and emotions that the rest just pretend to have as they go on about their lives. What happened with Baelfire was tragic and the loss of your child more so. But you have a new chance at a life that you want. Emma, please understand that we all want you to be happy. And if it is a pirate who…"

"I don't know," Emma interrupted. "I don't know if I feel that way about him. I don't know if I can any more." She looked longingly at the floor, a quiet sniffle the only sound. "I loved him and my child, but they are both gone now. And I am alone. Perhaps I'm like you said, meant to be alone."

Red smoothed her hand over the blanket she had folded. "No, Emma, I think that is why the Captain has come into your life. Perhaps you need reminding that you are capable of love. And whether with him or someone else, you will find that great love and have your happy ending."

***AAA***

Killian moved about the ship with a detectable slowness, his eyes glazed with the memories of Emma's visit interspersed with the troubles on his mind. Smee had requested to speak with him twice before he even acknowledged the man, finally giving into the request and finding himself in conference with him.

"The royal carriages should be arriving on one of two routes. While it would certainly be easier if we knew which one it was, I am certain we have enough men to split between the two." The man's face was marred with circles under his eyes and his quiet lilt in his voice sounded hoarse. Clearly the man had been struggling with his plan, as ineffective as it was.

Gripping the arm of his chair tighter, Killian tried not to think of the folded letter in his pocket. When Emma had appeared on the ship he had considered that she might be there to collect it, realizing she had left it with him by mistake. However, she had not mentioned it and it still sat in his care. From what she had said, the letter would tell him of the travel plans. There was no greater clue as to where to strike.

"I am reluctant to lessen our forces in that way," Killian said, thinking it a logical objection. "The carriages will be guarded by knights and guards who have more experience than some of our greener men. I don't relish seeing them struggle." He shifted uncomfortably at his seat. "Perhaps we should sail out in search of a ship to ambush. Blackbeard is usually around these parts at this time of year. He's easy enough to…"

"Blackbeard is good for a few coins, but were speaking of a royal treasure, Captain. That is a much better prize. I know you hate to split us up, but unless we get confirmation, I don't see another way."

The Captain nodded his head, looking at the crudely drawn map. "And where are you thinking I should be? I would need to be where the convoy is actually traveling. If you don't know, we may select the wrong spot."

Smee's eyes went wide at the realization that Killian was far from enthusiastic about this venture. The Captain he knew was always on the front line, never letting anyone take an unnecessary risk other than himself. However, this was far from the normal. "Captain, I am not sure how to ask this. But is there a reason that you don't wish to do this. I thought you wanted to go after the Dark One. That has been the plan all along, has it not? And we clearly need to replenish our supplies before we take on such a foe."

"I will take on the Dark One," Killian answered darkly. "I just don't see the need for robbing a royal treasure to do so."

Skeptical was an understatement as Smee watched Killian study the map critically. Without probing, the pirate was pointing out every flaw in the plan. He knew better than to argue with his Captain and let him, realizing that something else was bothering him. "It's her, isn't it?"

"Her?"

"The blonde woman at the Lucas Pub? The one who was aboard just a bit ago. You're trying to impress her?" Smee rarely spoke so freely to the man before him, but it seemed a necessary risk. "You could have your pick of the women in this village, but you seem glutton for punishment to go after one who is this much trouble."

"You forget yourself," Killian practically growled. "I am the Captain of this ship. Not you. You are to anticipate my needs and follow my commands. In no way have I asked you for advice on any woman I may have an interest in or fancy. So I will remind you to keep your mouth shut on such matters."

Looking appropriately chagrinned, Smee mumbled his apology. "I should tell you that the men are concerned about the lack of planning toward the royal carriage and supplies. They think…" He broke off, looking at the once ornate decorations of the cabin. "They think you aren't the man you once were. And some have been talking about crewing up with other ships."

"I want no man with doubts on my crew," Killian said as if it did not matter at all. "I am the Captain of this ship, Mr. Smee. And I won't be made to do anything I don't think is in the best interest of myself, this ship, or my crew. Is that understood?"

***AAA***

Emma did not see Granny until the next morning, though she dreaded the eventual lecture that she would undoubtedly hear about her behavior. She only hoped that the woman would be a bit more understanding than Red, as she was beginning to suspect that she had a soft spot for the pirate. For as guilty as she felt, Emma could not forget the sensation of his mouth on hers or the spicy taste of rum on his tongue.

"You look as though you feel better," Emma said as the two women sat for breakfast with Leo and Red hurried about at some last minute chores. "I was worried about you last night." The woman's eyes seemed brighter than the night before and her color was better though she was still moving a bit slower than normal.

"And here I thought your mind was on the Captain," the woman said, peering over her glasses before taking a gulp of her milk. "I'm as well as can be expected. Don't you worry."

"Are you going to the inn today or can I convince you to stay here?" Emma asked, breaking off a bit of the bread. "I'd be happy to assist Red with the inn and pub if you would like to stay here and rest."

The woman scoffed at the idea. "We've got to finish turning that land for the garden. And the fence for the goats must be mended before one of them escapes. There's too much to do here for anyone to rest." The woman popped one of the berries that Killian had picked with Emma into her mouth, her mouth puckering with the sweet tartness. "And I believe that man might set up camp by the chicken coop if you don't go to town today."

Emma's huffing response was interrupted by Leo's more innocent question of whether Killian was coming to visit him that day. His sister seemed too flustered to answer and Granny practically guffawed at the idea that the pirate's intentions were obvious to all but the young child. "I believe he might be more interested in visiting your sister," Granny told Leo. "But he seems to be quite taken with you too."

"He's easily entertained," Emma muttered, still not sure how to best express her indignation. "But Granny, I don't have to go to town. I can work here."

"Nonsense," Granny said firmly. "I've been working that garden and mending fences for longer than you've been alive. A little ache in my bones won't slow me down but a little. You go help that granddaughter of mine and bring me back some of the bread she's going to have you bake. Maybe a cake piece too. I've always had a sweet tooth."

"At least let me take Leo with me," Emma insisted. "You don't need him here to distract you or cause more work."

"I wouldn't," the little boy protested, but his smile clearly said he was excited at the prospect of another day with his sister. "I can look at the ships while you work, Emma."

Red laughed as she joined the trio, her hood having fallen off her head and down to her shoulders and back. "Maybe your sister can give you a tour. I didn't know you two had an interest in ships in common."

***AAA***

Killian arrived to fetch Emma, Leo and Red in the wagon he had borrowed the other day. Wearing his more familiar and darker clothes, he looked quite odd at the helm of it with the leather reins in his hand. He smiled brightly at Emma and gave a full handed wave to Leo before he spoke to Red. "Lady Lucas I know you walk this path every day, but I had hoped you'd allow me to make the journey easier for you and Emma."

Proclaiming it as an unnecessary luxury, the dark haired woman refused Killian's hand and climbed into the wagon on her own power, patting the seat next to her for Emma. "We might as well if he's going to try to impress you with his industriousness."

Killian didn't deny the woman's claim, but still felt his cheeks pink under the scrutiny. Emma was more willing to accept his help into the wagon and Leo followed by taking the seat on the front with Killian. He told his sister and mother's friend that he could better watch for bandits on the road in that position. "We'll protect them, won't we?" he asked Killian.

"Aye, that's the idea," the man said with a chuckle as the foursome was waved off by Granny.

"I don't know that we should leave her alone," Emma said in a quiet voice that she was hoping only Red would hear. "Perhaps I should go back."

"Granny is not about to let you do that. Once she makes up her mind, it is made up. We can try to go back early if you like." Red held to the simple board that served as their rustic seat. It wasn't a carriage like Emma usually road in, but the princess seemed more inclined to enjoy it than her godmother beside her.

Killian did not respond to that conversation though he could hear it going on, instead turning his attention to his young companion. The two talked about sailing for a little bit, including what it was like to climb to the crow's nest and feel as though you could see the whole world. The boy seemed in awe of the idea, his questions coming fast and furious. When Emma and Red stopped discussing Granny, they both stifled their laughter at his enthusiasm.

"Is it like flying?" he asked of the crow's nest. "Is that why they have named it after a bird because you feel like you are flying?"

Killian admitted that he was not sure how the term had originated, only that that midnight colored birds were the only ones that perched so high to rest. Emma smiled with admiration that he was, despite his warnings and others about his temperament as a pirate, kind and gentle with her brother. He did not seem at all put upon by the boy's questions.

"I believe that settles it," Red whispered, holding her hand over her mouth as she leaned toward Emma. "Leo will be your chaperone. His questions alone will keep Killian from any nefarious actions."

***AAA***

Regina sat listlessly as Robin spoke to two of the guards he had posted at the nursery door. Both boys were in there with the governess, playing some game with wooden blocks that he had carved and painted during a particularly bad snow storm. She was anxious to see them, telling Robin if he would not allow her to scurry away with Henry that she would at least hold him close to her until the danger passed.

"I have no doubt you will do all you can to protect him," Robin had said, kissing her temple. "But running away will serve no purpose when dealing with the Dark One. He's ruthless and cunning, a lethal combination for a powerful wizard."

"That's exactly why we should hide," she had protested. "Somewhere he can't find us."

"Does such a place exist?"

Unable to answer that question, Regina had agreed they would try guards and security measures to keep the darkness out of their home. And though she had not practiced magic in years, not since her stepdaughter had it bound out of her in a punishment that could have very well ended in death instead, the idea still created urges within her. "Perhaps…" she trailed off. Closing her eyes, she extended the fingers of her hands, stretching the long digits wide.

"Regina?"

The woman's hands clenched back shut into balled fists. "I had to try," she whispered before opening her dark eyes to him. "I should have never agreed to live this way."

While her statement stung him a bit, the man nodded as if he understood and took the seat next to her. "You were powerful," he observed. "This must be…"

"Don't," she said with a harsh glare at the guards moving back into position. "Don't placate me because you think it might calm me. There is danger approaching my son and I am helpless. I can't do anything about it."

"We are doing all we can. My men are surrounding this place. There are guards in every wing. Every window, door, and chimney is being watched and protected. We are safe, my love." He reached to cradle her, but she yanked away from him. "Regina, talk to me."

"You think Rumpelstiltskin is going to use a door? He's the Dark One. He'll appear. Or he'll just grab Henry and go. What does a guard matter to him?" She was sitting there stiffly, but her voice bordered on panic. "We're not doing anything to protect my son."

Robin was admittedly less versed in the ways of the Dark One than Regina seemed to be. Leaning back, he ran a hand through his hair and waited for her to explain. When she didn't, he had to ask. "What is it you want to do?"

"The only way to fight him is magic," she said, the word coming out like a trembling mass from her lips. "It's the only way."

"But we don't have magic. Do we even know anyone who does?"

"I do," she said quietly, her hand going to her opposite wrist. "I did. I studied under him for years, was taught his ways and his techniques. He showed me."

She had never told him that, though he had heard stories of the way she ruled with balls of fire and threats to destroy all in her path. He had chalked them up to rumors once he saw her powerless and vulnerable. He'd never truly believed. "And why are you not fighting now. If you have magic, you could surely stop him."

Looking upward, she breathed out slowly and surely. "I don't any more," she said, again lifting her arm to show the leather that wrapped around the slender wrist. "My stepdaughter…I did terrible things. Unforgiveable things when I was queen. She fought back against me to gain control of Mist Haven. And as a way of ensuring the kingdom's safety, she had me deemed powerless. I can't wield magic any longer."

He reached out to her arm and pulled at the leather. It did not budge or loosen. "She can remove it?"

"I don't really know," Regina admitted. "A friend of hers, a fairy placed this on me. I don't know if Snow can do this or not."

Robin stood abruptly, walking toward the fireplace and back again, his hands knotted in front of him. "This is so much to take in," he said. "I learn that your son is not truly your own. You have magic. The stories of your reign are not just rumors. Is there anything else? Anything you need to tell me so that I may begin to understand?"

She shook her head. "I don't know if I could beat him with magic, but I feel like I must try," she admitted tentatively. "Perhaps if I spoke to Snow."

A look of determination replaced the confusion on Robin's face. "Very well," he said. "You may get your way after all, Regina. Let's pack. We're going to Mist Haven."

***AAA***

Lily scowled from her spot behind the bar as Emma entered the pub. Her features contorted with displeasure and her words were harsh as she greeted the women only because Red was standing there. The moment that Red went to check on the register of guests and how many rooms would have to be turned over for the night with Leo trailing after, the scowl turned much more sickeningly sweet.

"I knew there was something about you," she said to Emma, a hand on one hip. "I just never imagined it would be magic."

Trying to keep her hands from shaking as she unfastened the clasp at the neck of her cloak, Emma looked to her as bravely as she could. "I don't believe I know what you're talking about, Lily."

"On the ship. You used some sort of dark magic to push me away from Killian." The woman's eyes were narrow and angry.

"That's quite a claim," Emma said, channeling the way her father had responded to a stable boy who had seen Emma conjure up a toy to play with when she was a child. "Are you feeling well? One of the signs of a fever is a hallucination."

The other woman seemed very much a child as she stamped her foot angrily in response. "I know what happened, Emma. You used magic on me because you were jealous."

Swallowing down her fear again, Emma smiled as sweetly as she could. "Perhaps you tripped or is possible that the Captain might have pushed you away?"

There was a rumbling growl in Lily's throat as she surged forward to plant herself in Emma's face. The princess worried what she might do, as there was an instability to anyone highly charged or emotional. She did not have to find out though, as Red returned moments later with a task for Emma to go to the baker for extra bread and other treats.

"It appears we have a large order coming in for the midday meal," she explained. Both women looked slightly confused as Red tied an apron around her thin waist. "Never mind the details. Lily, I will need the tables prepared and the bar spotless. Emma, I need you to stop at the baker's and the butcher's. I'm writing down what we need for you."

Emma accepted the scrap of paper from her godmother with an apologetic smile for having shown any unpleasantness in her moment with Lily. "I'll have Leo go with me to help fetch the items."

***AAA***

The wagon's wheels crunched loudly on the pebbly ground outside of the Lucas cabin, alerting the old woman to the arrival of some guest. She emerged from the darkness of the structure with a look of bewilderment on her face as she noted the half dozen men jumping off the rickety wagon and Killian smiling proudly from the seat.

"Am I under siege by pirates?" Granny asked as the men dispersed in two directions. "I have no treasures for you to find here."

Softening his grip on the reins, Killian kept his smile. "I heard your granddaughter and Emma mention the amount of work that is needed here today Widow Lucas. My men are more used to the sea, but they are lacking focus without more significant tasks. So today they are yours to do the mending of fences, the tilling of the spot for your garden, and whatever you deem as appropriate."

Granny's expression twitched with a grateful smile. "Only you, Captain Hook would think bringing pirates here to do these chores will somehow win you favor with Emma and her parents." She pursed her lips. "But so long as you have brought them, I suppose I can't turn away the help."

Killian and the men he brought along made quick work of the tasks, finding more to do despite Granny's weakened protests. He insisted that she rest, telling her that he was in no mood to be lectured by Emma and Red as to why after his assistance she looked more tired than if she had done it herself. When it was nearly noon, he stopped in to find her napping and left a quick note that he was headed back into town.

He pulled the wagon up to the back door of the pub a few minutes later to find Leo playing on the steps and Emma carrying part of the laundered linens back. Stepping off the wagon, he greeted her flushed but surprised face with his own smile. "I had hoped to see you," he said as she stammered out a hello to him.

"You just saw me this morning," she said, shifting the weight of the items in her arms.

"Aye, but not alone," he pointed out. He could have sworn she was looking more at his lips than into his eyes.

"We are not alone now either," she said, pointing her head in the direction of Leo who had abandoned his playing to stand rigidly and watchfully at attention. "It seems that Red thinks I need a chaperone and my brother is assuming that role today."

Killian chuckled, holding his arms bent so that she might relieve herself of part of the load. "A more ardent one could not be found. "I'm impressed and not surprised at this. She was probably is worried about you after you disappeared to come see me last evening."

Emma nodded. "I'm afraid I wasn't very smart about that, as she is worried about my reputation."

"I should have been more thoughtful about that as well, love," he said. "But it was such a wonderful surprise to see you there."

They stepped in through the doorway with her brother hot at their heels. Killian's attention was split between the two as Leo lobbed more questions about boats and even the wagon at the pirate and he attempted to gauge Emma's temperament since she was being rather subdued with him. The delicate balance was tipped as he noticed the open lidded crate where Red had packed the food he had requested for his men.

"You placed that order?" Emma asked as he lifted it with his hook braced underneath. "Why?"

"You seemed quite concerned about the Widow Lucas and her heath with all the tasks that had to be done at the cabin. My men were not otherwise occupied so I collected a few and have them there working." He grinned at her astonished expression. "It would not do to have her prepare food for the men instead of rest so I assured her and them that I would take care of it."

"Thank you, Killian," she said quietly.

He nodded his head one time and backed his way toward the door telling Leo to continue being a help to his sister and Aunt Red that day. The young boy promised he would and ran to the wagon with a bundle that Red had made for Granny. "I will see you later, Emma? Perhaps to accompany you home again?"

She frowned as she looked to the wagon. "You seem to be working that poor horse quite hard. Perhaps we could just walk. I'm sure Leo would not mind."

"I will ask his permission," he said formally. "Emma, I do owe you an apology. While I certainly enjoyed our kiss, I did not mean to cause harm to your reputation or that of your family. That has never been my intention toward you."

She smiled back. "And do you have intentions toward me?" she asked, the boldness of her question once again showing itself.

"Perhaps we can discuss that on our walk this evening."


	9. Chapter 9

_**So this chapter was fun to write in a few spots because you will get to see more of Snowing (Snow especially) and their reactions to Emma's new friend. I have also done a little call back to a Snow and Emma conversation on the show in Season 3 when Emma tells Mary Margaret that she kissed Hook in Neverland.**_

 _ **To answer a few questions: I haven't really been very clear about it but in this story Emma is turning 22 and Henry is 4. I couldn't quite make it work with the timeline to have her 28 and Henry 10 with Leo being young and the curse having not worked. So Henry and Roland are the same age in this story.**_

Leo struggled a bit to keep up with the longer strides of Emma and Killian, his shorter legs having to take two steps for each of theirs. However, he was an unusually happy child – taking after their mother in that way – and rarely let anything discourage him.

"My parents should arrive tomorrow," Emma said, breaking the silence they had fallen into on their route. "I have missed them, but I am not happy to leave either."

Killian placed his hand over hers that was looped through his other arm. "I should think you would be happy to get back to the palace and not have to do such menial work again." The fact that a princess had been changing beds, sweeping floors, and scouring pots had taken him by surprise. More surprising was her good natured response that she was merely helping.

"I will miss everything here," she said, looking up at the trees that would soon canopy the path with bright green foliage. "Granny, Red, the pub, and you."

"And I you as well," he assured her, squeezing her hand with his. "I would still suspect you might enjoy royal balls more than pouring pints at the pub." He winked as he said that, having heard mention from someone along the way that the King and Queen were avid dancers and threw a ball on any occasion."

She wrinkled her nose. "They are dreadfully boring. And filled with stuffy people who are too busy trying to impress each other." Contorting her mouth to one side, she flashed her green eyes at him. "Have you ever been to one?"

He cleared his throat. "No, I can't say that I have. I'm afraid I would never be able to attend with you. You father would never approve of a princess dancing with a pirate."

She giggled a short laugh, gripping his arm tighter. "I did not invite you, Killian. That would be my parents' place to do that. And then you would need to invite me to dance." She paused. "Do you know how to dance?"

"I suspect most would not believe it, but yes. I learned as a young lad with my mother. She worked in the kitchens for a duke after my father left. She was always enamored with the events that she witnessed and wanted me to learn to behave in that fashion, along with my brother. After she became ill she even had us dance with each other to check our form. At least that is what she said. I think it was her way of amusing herself." He chuckled to himself remembering his brother's clodding steps around the tiny room.

She tried to imagine a young boy and his older brother dancing a waltz. The very idea seemed more sweet and endearing than Killian usually made himself appear. "I should like to have seen it."

Leo ran back to them with the obvious news that they were approaching the cabin. Emma could see the smoke from the chimney and felt her chest tighten at the sight. Soon she would be at Granny's side and Red would join them by nightfall. Tomorrow her parents would be greeting her and by the next day she would be her way home.

"It appears that the Widow Lucas is making her home ready for your parents," he said, noting the bed linens that hung on a clothes line and scent of something sweet baking that was wafting on the air. "Their arrival must be imminent."

"Yes, I'm sure she thinks there is much to do before late morning. According to my mother's letter they have elected to take the northern route because it is quicker and more scenic. She is not opposed to a bumpy route like others might be." She smiled sadly. "I suppose this is our goodbye."

His snapped in her direction, looking down upon her face through the thick dark lashes that framed his eyes. That letter she spoke of was still in his pocket, in anticipation of him finding a way to slip it back to her. He had not read its contents and yet she had still spilled the details of her parents' journey. He begged his mind to forget the news of it, forget the details that Smee had been waiting for and that he had said they could not proceed without. "I suppose it is, lass," he said even quieter than she did. "A better man would stand beside you and talk to your parents. Yet I am not all that convinced that your father would not have me arrested on sight."

"I wish I could argue that point," Emma said. Her green eyes watered as she told her brother, who had no real understanding of the responsibilities of a chaperone, to run ahead and alert Granny they were coming. "If they truly knew you, they would like you. But I think you are right that titles and reputations might get in the way of that. So I suppose…Should I await your letter? You did say you would write."

"Aye, I did."

The light wind felt good on their skin, softly touching and lifting their hair with its gentle power. "I would like it if you did, but I will understand if you don't. I am sure you will be much too busy to remember me what with your pirating and all."

"You are not a woman I would easily forget," Killian admitted. "But you belong in that life and not here. And I have my own life to get back to, love. But I will write you and await your replies just as eagerly. I have great interest in what you do and how your life turns out."

Her eyes glistened even more as she stood on her tiptoes, giving herself a moment to place her lips to his cheek. "I hate goodbyes, especially tearful ones." She gave a final glance to the cabin, sure that she could see Granny's silhouette in the door. "I should go."

He loosened her grip on his arm while continuing to hold her hand in his own. "It is not every day that a man such as myself is in the company of a beautiful princess," he said, the smile he was wearing sad and regretful. Bringing her hand to lips, he kissed it gently and then another to her forehead. "I am grateful for the opportunity to have met you and spent time with a woman such as yourself. I count myself among the luckiest."

***AAA***

The first of the royal carriages rumbled into the village just after daybreak, the queen's eager face plastered to the window as if a child seeing it all for the first time. She clung to her husband's hand as they grew closer to the cabin, all of the guards fearing she would tumble out of its confines before they made a proper stop. But somehow King David was able to hold his wife back and the two of them were soon reunited with their children.

Sitting in the main room of the cabin, David had pulled his son to sit in his lap as Granny and Red both praised Emma for how helpful and giving she had been. Snow beamed with pride at this news as her daughter hung her blushing head at the words that were being spoken about her. Red and Granny both avoided discussion of Killian, though there were moments where Emma worried over the situation.

"I can't help but notice the number of ships in the harbor, Granny," David said as his son was beginning to fall asleep with his head on his father's chest. The boy had been up for the majority of the night in anticipation. "A number carrying the flags of no kingdom."

"I know you have your issues with pirates and plunderers," Granny said, accepting more tea from Red. "But their coin spends as well as the next man's. And for a business that is all that matters."

A gentle squeeze of his arm from Snow changed the topic back to happier subjects. However, it found its way back to Granny's health quickly. "Won't you please consider coming back with us," Snow beseeched her friends. "We have more than enough room and you could be pampered and cared for like never before. It would be our honor."

"And what would I do all day?" Granny said stubbornly. "I'm happy here."

After a simple but plentiful midday meal Emma noticed that her father had slipped outside to discuss the travel plans with the staff. His conversation had not included much in the way of the fate of King George other than to say that there was still much work to be done to unite the kingdoms. Emma feared that would send her father away more often, something she dreaded.

If her goodbye with Killian had been sad, the one with Red and Granny was on the same scale. Granny held her tight in a hug, making her promise to visit again soon. Red's words were more personal with a soft reminder that she was in fact a good woman and would someday make a fine queen. "Don't chase your desires," she said, her breath against Emma's ear. "They will come to you if they are the right fit."

From her seat across from her parents in the royal carriage, Emma tried not to appear too interested as they passed the ships in the harbor. Merchant and pirate ships far outnumbering those of the Royal Navy. David appeared very interested in that as well, but Snow remained the calmer one talking of old times she had spent in that same village as a young woman. Her nostalgia overtook David's practicality. "I seem to remember it was a good place to meet a handsome man and have a nice conversation over a pint of ale," she said warmly, raising an eyebrow at her daughter. "Did you find it to be the same?"

"Do I have reason to be jealous?" David asked, rescuing his daughter from the awkward question. "I thought your time here was plagued with finding a wolf not meeting eligible men at the local pub."

Snow smiled at her daughter, pulling the lap blanket over her bent legs. "I'm sure you had a lovely time while you were here. I hope perhaps you might tell us all about it, but for now I think I should like a nap. All of this traveling has been exhausting."

***AAA***

Henry clung to Regina as the carriage bumped along the narrow road, water from a recent rain splashing up and stained the doors of the vessel. Robin sat across from them, his dark haired son in his lap, playing with a carved horse and chattering about wanting to own his own someday.

"When you a wee bit older," Robin told him gently. The echo of his wife's confessions over the past few days were rumbling in his brain. She had admitted her own infertility, a result of her own magical spell. She told him how she had acquired her son through the Dark One, a small boy who had reminded her of her own father and she had fallen in love with immediately. And she had explained that while the Dark One had helped her in such a way, he had not given her many details of the boy's lineage or family. She simply didn't know and assumed them to be too poor to care for him or perhaps dead.

Stirring slightly, Henry muttered the word mama as he settled against Regina again. "I can't lose him," she said quietly. "Not after all this."

"You won't," Robin assured her. "We are going to see your stepdaughter. We're going to find a way to fight the Dark One together."

***AAA***

Emma slipped from her bed late the night that they arrived, her bare feet padding soundlessly on the thick rug between her bed and the desk by the window. Pulling out a sheet of fine parchment, she placed the tip of the pen in the ink and began to write her first letter to Killian. She had had thought of what she would say for the long hours of the trip, mentally writing and editing the text in her head so many times that she was not sure she even could remember what all she had wanted to say.

Most young princesses her age wrote letters, as that was a large part of even Snow's day. However, Emma had not really had occasion to write to men in her life. Most of her correspondence was limited to far away friends such as Elsa and Anna. This seemed different to write to Killian, as she could hardly discuss the latest social event or details of the dress that had been made for her.

She was debating a description of the weather when she heard the knock at her door. Frowning, she called out permission for entrance and was only partially surprised to see her mother steal into the room. Her mother was dressed in a soft white dressing gown, lace at the collar and sleeves that had been spun for her with her signature of birds and flowers in the pattern. Her hair down in a cascade of waves from the tight knot of braids that she usually wore, she looked much younger than her years.

"Mother, I hope I wasn't disturbing you," Emma said, putting aside her letter and turning to face the woman. "I tried to keep quiet."

"I was awake and noticed the light of a candle flickering in your room," her mother told her. "I thought this might be a good time for us to talk since your father is asleep and Leo has finally succumb to the same fate."

Since Emma had returned to the palace after having given birth, Snow had rarely been spontaneous with her visits to her daughter. It was common place for a queen to request an audience with her grown daughter through a handmaiden or other staff member, but Emma had missed the impulsiveness of her mother's visits and the way they had spent more than a few hours together without schedules and formality.

"I am glad that you did then," Emma said sincerely.

The Queen's eyes darted to the unfinished letter, but she gave no sign of her approval or disapproval of the action. Instead, she chose a seat on the chaise that had been a steady feature in the Princess's room for a long time. "I know that you are not one for compliments, but Granny and Red were quite grateful to you for your assistance. It is such a comfort to know that I can count on you."

Emma's hands fisted in the material of her own dressing gown, much simpler than the one her mother wore but still a soft white garb. "I am glad they were pleased."

Snow nodded again, holding herself in her regal position despite the informality of sitting in her own daughter's room. "They are quite special to me and when I learned I was expecting you, Red was one of the first people I told of the news. She was a natural choice for me to ask to become your godmother, though many thought that title should go to someone of nobility. Granny knitted your baby blanket right away and one night delivered it to the castle as though it could not have waited for daylight or even months later."

Emma had heard those stories before, heard how her mother had relied upon the Lucas women even more than other royal families. When the fate of the kingdom had been threatened by Regina, it was Granny and Red who had helped to devise a plan both for the once Evil Queen and for Emma's safety. Those used to be staples of the bedtime stories that Emma heard each night. "I appreciated the opportunity to get to know them better."

Snow seemed satisfied with that answer. "They are loyal and true friends," she continued, her legs crossed at her ankles as she sat there alternating her gaze from her blonde daughter to the open window beside the bed. "And they would never dishonor a confidence they shared with you. I hope you know that."

Knitting her brow together in confusion, Emma watched her mother shift uncomfortably. Usually her mother was not one to fidget and had scolded Emma for doing just that. "Of course they wouldn't," Emma said slowly, not understanding where her mother's conversation was going. "I know I can trust them."

"Young brothers are different though," Snow said, shedding some light on her train of thought. "Leo is excitable and so eager to have news to share that it just flows from him without regard for what one might wish was more private." Emma closed her eyes at the realization that her brother had spoken of Killian.

"Leo has said something to you." It was not a question as much as a statement, as Emma prepared herself for a stern talking to about a princess's duty and keeping her reputation intact. "I suppose I should explain and apologize."

Her mother did not look that severe as the Queen raised an eyebrow in question to her daughter's reaction. "He mentioned a new friend, who I admit I was surprised to learn was not a child. He seems to be more your age. The more that he discussed this friend, Killian, I realized that this man had been coming to call upon you while you were with Granny and Red."

Emma's mouth felt as though someone had poured saw dust into it. She only nodded, hoping that she did not look as distressed as she felt.

"I see," her mother said. "I would also be right in the assumption that he must be a sailor, as he gave your brother that carved boat to play with while he spent time with you?"

Again, Emma nodded her head wordlessly, though she chastised herself for not having realized her brother would have to explain the present when their parents saw it. She tried to open her mouth to speak but nothing came out.

"To hear your brother describe him, he must be a very kind gentleman," Snow said, obviously prodding for more information. When none came, she tried to disguise the disappointment in her expression with a kind smile. "I am pleased that you met someone who took care to see to you while you were there, Emma. This isn't an inquisition, though I can't guarantee your father won't say something when he learns of this."

Drawing in a breath, Emma knew that her mother was extending an olive branch in hopes that they could speak as they used to in this very room. She remembered well the conversation they had the night that she had met Baelfire. Her mother had not pried too much, but eaten up each detail that Emma had shared. "He is a captain of a ship," Emma said slowly, wondering if she could truly do justice to Killian with words. "I met him on my first visit to the village during a rainstorm."

Her mother's expression brightened and for a moment she looked as Emma imagined she had when she had sat with Red all those years ago and discussed Emma's father and Red's first love. The Queen wisely did not ask any questions, letting her daughter speak of a few minor details and a few more specific. She seemed grateful to get what she could get.

"I'm sure I sound like a fool," Emma said after she had described the scar at his cheek and how she had never even asked him about how he had gotten it.

"I would never call you such," her mother said, rising up from the chaise and crossing the room in a few steps. "The first time I saw your father I was in a pretty bad place. I was worried about him turning me in. I was concerned about where my next meal would come from. I shouldn't have noticed the way his hair didn't quite lay flat in that one spot. But for weeks after that first meeting that was all I saw when I pictured him."

Emma smiled at the thought of her mother having such a lovesick thought even while on the run from her stepmother. She reached over to the paper on her writing desk and sighed. "I was trying to write to him. He promised that he would write back and I suppose I was anxious."

Snow nodded her head slowly. "I suppose you thought your father and I would object for some reason, what with his not coming to meet us to properly ask after you."

Emma's eyes dropped from her mother's. "He is not the sort of man father would approve of," she admitted. "And I know that should deter me."

Snow did not seem surprised by that admission. "I don't know the reasoning for that, but I do know that few fathers approve of any man for their daughters. Your father is no different." She braced her long fingers on the sash of the window and looked down at the dark gardens below. "My father never met David, but I assure you that he would have found reason to disapprove. Though I'm not sure that would have deterred me."

It was Emma's turn to shift uncomfortably. "I don't know what my heart wants, Mom," Emma said, addressing the woman more informally than she had in some time. "I know that I feel good when I am around him and well, I kissed him…"

Snow tried to hide her expression by staring back out the window. "I suppose Red is the better one to discuss this with," she admitted. "She has more experience with this sort of thing. For your father was my first love." She gripped the window a bit tighter. "I can't even imagine how it must be for you with Baelfire gone. But surely he would understand. It was just a kiss."

"He's not just gone, mother. He left. He swore we would always be together and he left. That night when I went to go to him, he wasn't there. He…he disappeared."

Snow turned from the window and looked lovingly at her daughter. "Perhaps he will come back."

In that moment Snow looked more innocent and hopeful than Emma had ever felt. The soft glow of the candle only served to show that the Queen could not imagine the betrayal that Emma's heart had felt to learn that the man she had trusted and loved and left her. "I do not think that would matter," Emma said honestly. "I know that you and father were separated for quite some time, but it was different. It was not your choice. Baelfire chose to leave me. He chose to procure that magic bean. He chose to leave this realm, me, and his life here behind because of his father or whatever other reason he could come up with the time." Emma glanced again at the paper where she had begun the letter to Killian. "I wasn't enough. I wasn't enough to make him want to stay."

"Oh my dear, you are enough. You are more than enough." Snow wrapped her arms around herself, the cool breeze from the open window becoming a bit much for her. "Emma, Baelfire's father is hardly a normal parent. He's the Dark One and that surely drove him away, as it did as a child. There are no excuses for how he treated you by leaving you here alone with a child who you might have had to have raised on your own. But if you love him enough then perhaps…"

"You're right," Emma said, her eyes feeling heavy with her need for sleep. "There are no excuses for him. None at all. He grew up having escaped his years of stagnation on Neverland. He of all people would and should understand what it is like to be abandoned. Yet that is what he did to me. And no, Mother, there is no excuse. No matter what happens, I won't welcome him back into my life at all."

***AAA***

Killian was not sure how he got himself back aboard the Jolly Roger, as his memory was tainted with the taste of rum that had been his companion the night before. The birds were already beginning to chirp their morning song as peeled back the cover on his bed and sank into the mattress with his daily attire except his boots. He was not a fool, he reminded himself, at least not a lovesick one as he knew that Smee and the others were beginning to think.

Emma had brought out a more sentimental side to him, but that meant nothing in the scheme of things. He was a pirate and his focus was still singular in his quest to remove the power of the Dark One. She had been a lively distraction, more so than any wench or woman who he had shared a bed with in the past. She challenged him and made him seek ways to please her, including acting as a handyman for Granny and performing tasks that he would have never done himself in other circumstances. He had not even taken Granny's money when she had offered payment, telling her it was no trouble at all. Truthfully the only payment he wanted was the sweet smile of the Princess when she became aware of his actions. She had practically thrown herself into his arms, only prevented by her younger brother.

Light was beginning to come in through the widow's glass panes and a particularly bright shard of it pierced at his eyes. He moaned loudly, a noise that sounded vaguely like Emma's name. He had hoped that with her out of his sight and proximity that his life would return to some sense of normalcy. And yet she was still in his thoughts. His hand still felt the way her fingers laced with his. He could smell the scent of her, feel her hair tickle his arms like when she stood close. He could hear her calling his name out, the soft way it rolled off of her tongue like a song.

He had never been the type to daydream of a woman, no matter her beauty or character. Even when he had been with Milah there had not been that fantastical quality to it. She had been his, shared his bed, his heart, and his life until the Dark One had found them. And despite her last ditch efforts to appease the Crocodile's whims, she had fallen to the man's pride and power hungry ways. Her heart was crushed in front of him, leaving him alone and without his left hand to try to salvage what was left of his life.

The loss of her had darkened him, not with evil but with revenge. He had not stolen or killed for any other reason than to further his quest to avenge Milah's death. Then he could rest. Then he could think about the rest of his life, if that was even a possibility. He was well aware that his quest could kill him, but the thought of snuffing out his own life in the process of killing the Dark One was not all together unpleasant.

"Captain?"

Smee's voice broke through the haze of the alcohol's last remnants and the vision of Emma there in his quarters with her lips parted and her body against his. Gods, but his first mate had impeccable timing. Punching his pillow, Killian permitted the man to enter.

"Bloody hell, Smee, what can have you up and about at this hour?"

"Twenty of the men are missing," Smee informed. "Left to join up with Blackbeard."

"Good riddance to them," Killian muttered in a slurred tone. "Any man who sails on this ship will do so with loyalty and allegiance." He fell back onto the mattress, its corners rising up.

"We aren't sailing at all," Smee said under his breath, not sure that the Captain could hear him. Killian heard and raised an eyebrow. "The men are restless and you'll surely lose more if we don't do something."

"We must have the sail…"

"It's an excuse." Smee's boldness did not go unnoticed by the pirate, but he respected it in an odd way. "That enchanted sail is good when we need to fly, but it is not a necessity. We can…"

"See to finding a sail maker," Killian said. "We shall set sail tomorrow to strengthen our reserves. Then we shall strike at the Crocodile."

***AAA***

Emma's eyes were a bleary mess as she joined her parents and brother for breakfast, something she rarely did any more. The smile on her father's face encouraged her as she spread a bit of the marmalade on her toast and listened to her mother discuss the day's schedule with her father. There was something soothing about the way her mother could gently nudge her father into her way of thinking. Emma had learned that her mother used her wit and strategy rather than her wiles to do that, something she was very proud to know.

"I think we should consider paying a visit to Queen Elsa soon, as I'm sure that Emma would love to see her. And that trade agreement has not yet been signed," her father said between bites. "With spring here and summer coming, the ice will have melted and the snowpack lessened so the travel should be safe."

"Sounds like a lovely idea," Snow agreed, grinning at Leo and Emma. "Elsa and Anna are always gracious hosts. Perhaps your steward can see to us setting sail in a week or two? It would give us enough time to pack."

"A boat?" Leo asked, his eyes shining brightly at his big sister. "Like Killian's?"

Emma's mother looked at her consolingly at her daughter as David wiped his mouth with a linen napkin. "Killian?" he asked, not yet grasping who his son might be talking about.

"He's my friend and Emma's too," Leo answered happily. "He has a large ship. He's a captain."

Emma's eyes fluttered shut as she imagined stuffing a piece of bread into her brother's mouth to quiet him. Her father was already clearing his throat and she was letting the excuses for not having mentioned this man fly through her head.

"Emma," her father said in that terse yet gentle way he spoke to the royal guards before pounding into them some mistake they had made. "Care to give me a few more details of who this Killian is?"

Her green eyes opened to her father staring at her intently as her mother laid a single hand on his forearm in an effort to lull him. "It's like Leo said," Emma answered, her voice sounding nothing like her own. "He's a sailor who befriended us."

"A naval captain then?" David asked.

"Not exactly," Emma said, biting inside her cheek. "I believe he was a naval lieutenant at one point."

Snow squeezed her husband's arm to divert his attention to her. "Graham said he wanted to have a word with you this morning. You'd better hurry if you wish to be on time for that."

"Yes, well, I would like to hear more of your adventures with this captain," David said, gifting his daughter with a smile as well as a reprieve. "Perhaps later." Leaving his napkin folded on his chair, David pulled his wife into his embrace and heralded them down the hallway to ready for the meeting with Graham.

Emma dropped her forehead into the cradle of her hand and moaned. She could barely think of Killian without blushing and smiling at the memory. And here she had a mother and father questioning her and wanting to know things about him. How could she explain when she did not yet understand herself? They would expect labels and explanations. She had none.

"Does your head hurt?" Leo asked her innocently. "You don't look well."

"I'm perfectly well," she told him. "I only am dreading explaining about Killian to father."

The boy chewed quietly and thoughtfully, watching his sister carefully. "Why? Killian is perfectly nice and father says it is good to be nice. He was helpful fetching you to and fro each day. And father says it is good to be helpful. And he…"

"Fathers are particular about the men who are around their daughters," Emma explained to him. "Someday a girl's father might look at you that same way and not find you good enough."

The boy's eyes grew wider at the idea, his sandy colored hair falling in front of them. "Then I will have to prove myself so that father will like me. That's what Killian should do."

***AAA***

Snow sat at the desk with her eyes on the paper before her, writing another letter to a friend. She could tell from her husband's pacing that he was annoyed at being kept waiting. Graham was late, which would not serve him well with his request to revisit some of the laws he had described as barbaric. He'd been seeking an audience with the King for several months, each being postponed by this or that. So the idea that he was late was distressing to say the least.

"Are you sure it was today?" David asked, the leather of his boots slapping on the ground. "I know this is important, but we have so much to do to prepare for my father's kingdom. I'm still not sure what is the best route…"

The King's words were cut off as a harried and breathless Graham entered the room, bowing first to David and then to Snow in his haste. "I apologize for my tardiness, but I was detained by a guard who wished to speak to me. I have news to deliver."

"And what news is that?" David asked, forgoing his pacing for a moment. "Something dire?"

"Your highness," he said bowing to Snow again, ignoring her previous statements that he should not be so formal with her after having saved her life. "Your step-mother, is making her way to the castle. She is seeking you both out," Graham explained. Both men turned to Snow to see her reaction to the news.

"Does she mean us harm?" the Queen asked, her hands seeking to steady themselves by folding in her lap. "I have not heard from her in so long."

"I have not been informed of the reason for her arrival, only that she is desperate to see you, your highness." Graham frowned as he turned back to the King. "I took the liberty of asking the royal guards to assemble and make ready for your instructions. While she has been quiet for some time, I cannot foresee any good reason for her to come here. She must be in need or want of something very important."

 _ **As much as I like writing the budding relationship between Emma and Killian, I needed to move this story along a little. Don't worry. They'll be thrust into their adventure together soon. We need to get let everyone else caught up.**_


	10. Chapter 10

**_More interaction with Emma and her parents – this time her father. We also get a little Regina time at the castle._**

 ** _Leo's age. In my story, Leo is 8 years old, but Killian thought he was more like 6 because he is small for his age. My idea was that he was born early and Snow has been quite protective of him since he seems more fragile than Emma had seemed. He was about 4 when Emma gave birth to Henry. That may come into play in a later chapter._**

 ** _Previous Chapters – AO3 and_**

They did not tell Emma right away why she would not be permitted to walk in the gardens that day, nor did they explain to Leo why he could only play in his room and not about the castle as he usually did. It was Leo who put up most of the fuss, complaining that he had missed things and people and wanted to play amongst the trees and see the stablehands working out the horses as they did each morning.

"If you do as mother and father say, I'll let you read to me from your favorite story book this afternoon," Emma told him as they made their way to the east wing of the palace. "You've got lessons today anyway."

Leo pouted a bit as he scooted down the hallway to Johanna's waiting arms as Emma slipped into the smallest of the three libraries in the palace. Most of the books in it were far too juvenile for her, but she was not going there to read. She settled herself at the desk closest to the window and began on her letter to Killian again, describing for him a few details of the journey back and how she missed so much about how simple life had been in the village. Her words flowed easier without sleep begging to overcome her. And she was hopeful that the words made sense to him as she read over it twice. Frowning to herself, she still didn't feel that sounded just right, but she summoned one of the birds that her mother had trained and went to tie the message to the yellow feathered animal.

"Just a moment," she said to the bird as she searched the desk drawer for a bit of twine or something to fasten the message. Finding nothing, she began to despair, as doubt preyed on the delay in her actions. In a rash decision, she pulled the blue ribbon that tied off the braid of her hair and used it instead of the more ordinary twine. Closing her eyes as if making a wish, she sent the bird with the message on its way. It might have been more sentimental than she was used to being, but for some reason she liked the idea of him with her ribbon. Maybe he might recognize it.

***AAA***

Snow felt her hands dampen the dress she was wearing, her grip on it tight and nervous as the carriage containing Regina drew closer. She had been watching from the window of the highest floor of the palace, her eyes scanning the horizon until she finally saw the familiar dark image of the carriage that had been a part of her nightmares for years. When Regina had been forcibly removed from the throne, Snow and David had agreed to certain concessions and allowances for her well-being. She was given a place to live, an allowance, and kept many of her belongings. In return, she gave up the ability to perform magic and held no formal royal functions. The midnight colored carriage was one of those belongings.

David was the one to greet the woman who had married Snow's father, though Snow had come downstairs for the occasion and stood just inside the door. The surprise that Regina was not alone was not evident on David's face as he held out a hand to greet Robin and ushered Henry and Roland off with Johanna. Making a simple comment that she was full of surprises, he got no real answer.

"Regina," Snow said as the woman crossed the threshold into the grand foyer. "I wasn't expecting you."

The woman gave a tight smile as her husband stepped around her to bow before Snow. Though it would be not out of line with protocol for Regina to be omitted from the tradition of bowing before the Queen as a former queen herself, the woman bent her knees slightly with a dip of her head in a show of respect. "I apologize for the rushed nature of this visit," she said. "We are in need of your assistance."

Snow kept a good poker face as David suggested that they might move to the sitting room to be more comfortable. "No need in standing around here like we are not all aware that this will probably be quite a conversation," he said, his hands rested at the sash about his waist as he walked into the room that was decorated in deep burgundy and blue tones. Helping his wife into a seat, he asked if the visitors might enjoy something from the kitchen and asked after Robin's preferences before turning silent and looking toward Regina for more of an explanation.

To everyone's surprise, Regina spoke directly to Snow without some of the quips and threats that had been her trademark. "My son's life is in danger because of the Dark One," she said, deciding that frankness was the key to the conversation. "I made a deal with him to be able to bring Henry into my life and now it is time to pay up."

David spoke first, his face appearing as a man having something sour. "You named your son after your father?" he asked, skeptical to the idea. "The same father you killed in an effort to cast a curse that would send us all into some purgatory for who knows how long?"

Robin showed no surprise at this news about his wife, but it was clear to her that he would ask after it later. "You know as well as I do that to cast that curse I had to crush the heart of the one I loved the most. My father was always that for me."

"Does it really matter what she named her child, David?" Snow admonished. She was known to have a weak spot when it came to children so framing the plea this way was a good first step. "You should know better than to make a deal with him Regina. What does he want of you and your son?" Snow could not be too tough on her stepmother, as she had gone to Rumpelstiltskin while pregnant with Emma, hoping to gain knowledge to defeat the curse. It was easy to stand proud and pretend that one was above magic, especially dark magic. However, when one was faced with any number of obstacles, he was always a solution to consider.

"He wants my son for some ungodly reason that I don't know," Regina said, trying hard not to lose her patience. "The only way to sleep at night will be if I beat him. That's going to take magic. Either that or it will take some great force that I don't have at my disposal."

Snow shook her head sadly. "No one has seen him years, Regina. The last person who did is no longer in this realm. I don't see how he can be that big of a threat to you." She pushed her hands together into one knot. "Is this a ploy? Something to make me give you your magical abilities back so that I might become vulnerable to you again?"

"I saw him the other night," Regina said, shaking her head. "He came to me to threaten my son. Each hour that passes brings him closer." She looked at the royal couple hopefully, but found no sympathy in their eyes. Throwing up her hands, she stood. "This was a waste of time."

Robin grabbed his wife's hand and squeezed tightly as he looked on at the Queen's passive face. "Regina did not want to make this plea to you. I'm asking you, your highness. Isn't there a way? Isn't there something that would allow her to regain her powers to fight him while still protecting yourself? Perhaps a time limit on her powers or some sort of control?" He paused. "I don't know the details of what happened, but I do know that my wife is not a cruel woman. She will not hurt you, your highness."

David scoffed at the plea. While his heart certainly went out to the former Queen and her desire to protect her son, he was not about to advise his wife to make themselves and their kingdom susceptible to damage from who he knew as a vengeful woman. "Your wife," he said, pointing his chin toward Regina, "attempted multiple times to have my wife killed. She had her branded as a fugitive and sought to separate my family. And all for what? Revenge from a secret my wife shared when she was a child! I cannot see any circumstance where we would knowingly and willingly give your wife back her magic. There are too many people to think about. There are too many people to protect from the likes of her."

Regina had never lacked the regal quality that seemed to ooze out of every poor of her being. She wore it like the crown she had lost years before. Pushing herself up to standing, she nodded to each of them, and looked to Robin. "A waste of time," she repeated. "Perhaps we can contact someone else to help us. If you think that man is going to stop at Henry, you're mistaken. He is a threat to us all. He could be creating some other evil spell that will turn us all into toads for all I know. And yet you are sitting here without doing a thing to protect yourselves or your subjects. That's not very royal behavior."

David's face reddened with anger. "I'm not about to take advice about being a royal from you," he said. "You brought your son here with a price on his head. You're the menace in this situation, essentially inviting the Dark One into our home."

"You would do the same if it was your child in danger."

"She's right," Snow said, biting her lip as she saw the flash in the woman's eyes. "Wait. I don't know that we can restore your powers, but surely we can find a way to protect your son."

Robin looked to the hopeful expression on the Queen's face. "We would be in your debt if you did," he said sincerely.

***AAA***

Killian had once described the feeling of the hours before setting sail as the greatest anticipation known to man. He had hundreds of years to fully gasp that rush of adrenaline that coursed through him at the busy nature of his men throwing lines and raising sails to meet the winds. He thrived on the sight of the skyline growing smaller. By morning he would know that feeling yet again.

He was having that same thought as he waited on one of the shops that carried many of the food supplies he would need to open after the midday meal and break were complete. That was when the bird found him. The yellow feathered and cheerful bird landed on the window sill in front of him, The paper was attached to it with a blue ribbon he recognized as the one she had worn in her hair the day they had spent together at Granny's cabin. To his surprise the bird stood there patiently as he fumbled with the knot, as it was not so easy to untie with one hand.

He tucked the satin ribbon in his pocket as he read the letter, smiling to himself that he could hear her voice in the words. For a while he forgot the responsibility of making the deals for the supplies they would need, caught up in her words and descriptions of her life. She clearly did not need him, but he could imagine himself there beside her. Then reality sunk in. The end of her letter explained how the bird would work, how to call for her and send a letter of his own. Even the instructions were laced with that self-doubt that always seemed to creep into her speech. She seemed to truly wonder if he would want to continue contact with her. Despite his own doubts of inadequacy, he felt for her and wished that he might do something to make her believe in herself.

He folded the paper carefully and returned himself to the duties of buying the corn meal, and dried fruits that he tried to keep in stock on his ship. It took four men to carry it all back to the Jolly Roger, the bird following along at some distance. He thanked them each with a coin and disappeared to his cabin as the remnants of his crew disbursed into the duties of storing it. He'd been thinking of what to write her, hardly wanting to expose himself on paper or in person. But yet the words flowed out as he told her of setting sail in the morning and the rush going through him. He laced his descriptions with thoughts of how she might like it, knowing that the freedom of seeing the world was one of her greatest desires. And he said he hoped to see her again someday soon.

Stepping foot on deck, he whistled as she had suggested to call for the yellow bird and sent the message off without an explanation that he now carried her ribbon in his pocket to use as his own personal talisman.

***AAA***

Emma could hear the tension in her mother's voice as the woman stood in front of her and explained that Regina was downstairs. "You're hardly a child, but I wanted to protect you from her. And now it seems I have invited her into our home." Snow seemed paler than her normal fair complexion, a look of worry evident on her features.

"She's a mother now," David told Emma, his voice a bit stronger. "It seems to have done things to her, made her…"

"More human," Snow finished. "Her son. He's here and he's in danger."

Emma looked between her parents with a quizzical wonder. "Wait, I don't understand. Regina is here. Why? Her son's in danger and she comes for a visit? Is she that cold?" All of her life Emma had heard the stories that her step-grandmother had done horrible things to her family. Her mother and father could have both died at the devices of this woman, but they were playing host and hostess to her. Emma wasn't sure she could understand forgiveness like that.

"She needs our help," David said by way of explanation. "She needs us to protect her son from the Dark One."

There was an involuntary shiver that ran through Emma, a coldness she always felt whenever the man was mentioned. "Why would the Dark One…"

"We don't know all the details," David said. "Perhaps it isn't for us to know. We…we can't let a child suffer because of bickering magic. And the choice was this. We could give her back her magical powers. Or we could find another way to take on that dark magic."

Emma swallowed hard, realizing what her father wanted of her. "You want me to do it? You want me to take on the Dark One?"

Snow's eyes shone brightly with the unshed tears as she watched her daughter's crestfallen face turn angry. Their only daughter had magic because, according to the fairies and everyone else they consulted, she was the product of true love. Why their son had no similar traits, nobody could explain. She had cried and begged the fairies to remove the magic from Emma the moment they had seen evidence of it, fearing that her daughter would turn evil. Snow had never seen a good use for magic, as it always seemed to drive the bearer mad with the power of it. She did not want that fate for her daughter.

"You were given magic for a reason," David explained. "And your issues with the Dark One are already strong enough to spur you. I know you have no reason to do this for Regina. I'm asking you to consider this for that small boy. He's innocent, Emma. He's a child. Don't let something happen to him so that you might prove a point."

Emma closed her eyes to her father's pleading face. He had never done this before, never asked her to use her magic. She was not unaware of its workings, as the Blue Fairy had trained her for several years, taking a break when Emma was too distraught after the loss of her son. "I want to meet them," she said quietly. "I should at least have that chance to meet the woman and her son. Don't you think?"

"She's lying down right now," Snow explained. "Her son and stepson are in with Leo playing. I thought we might stop in to see them."

Emma followed her parents down the short corridor to her brother's room. Like hers it was spacious and comfortable. However, her room no longer had the shelves of toys or the artwork of fantasy that her brother's room had. There on the floor were her brother and she guessed her newly discovered uncles playing with the tin soldiers that her brother adored. The first to look up was a small boy with a mop of dark hair and a grin that seemed almost impish. He smiled at her easily and introduced himself to her as Roland. The other little boy was quieter with a lighter colored hair and narrow eyes that were almost hidden by his cheeks when he smiled at something Leo said. He looked to the three adults entering with some interest, his eyes stopping on Emma.

The Princess had never been one to swoon, her constitution much stronger than most. However, looking at the small face in front of her, Emma felt her knees buckle and her stomach clench. She was looking upon the face of Baelfire. She gripped her father's arm to feel something solid and real, his concerned face meeting hers as he tried to figure out why she was upset.

"Emma?"

She took two staggering steps backward before turning and bolting from the room.

***AAA***

It was David who found Emma, her skirt having torn in her escape from the palace and leaving him a clue. He approached her carefully, as one would a skittish deer. Smiling at her with soft eyes, and speaking in a concerned tone, he joined her on the bench just inside the walls of the garden.

"You saw something in that boy that scares you," he said, prodding her gently. "Is that it?"

Emma's eyes were closed, her head against the stone wall that blocked off the gardens and legs crossed in front of her. "He looks as Baelfire looks with those eyes. It was too much. I'm sorry. I probably frightened the lot of them by running that way."

"Children are more resilient than most would think," David said gently. "I'm afraid your mother and I didn't consider the consequences of you seeing the boys. Henry, the boy's name is Henry. He's about the age your son would be if he hadn't…"

Emma could hear the pain and anguish in her father's voice as he said the word son. Despite the years that had passed, her father never mentioned Baelfire or what had transpired. Telling him of her condition and Baelfire's disappearance remained one of the hardest things she had ever done. She had feared that she had disappointed him, caused him to view her differently. "Yes, he is," she said sadly. "I know it shouldn't bother me. But with all this talk of the Dark One and seeing someone who looked as I imagine Baelfire would have looked at that age was distressing."

"Emma, you're human. And what happened those years ago hurt you. I'd be worried if you weren't reacting to this in some way." He pulled her into his side, rocking her a bit. "If this is too much for you, you don't have to do it. We'll send Regina on her way with the rest of them."

She was quiet, taking in the sound of his breathing. It was a soothing sound to her, the softness of it when he had held her as he went over documents he had to sign and maps he had to study. She could remember being a toddler and falling asleep on his shoulder as he read some book. The lights low enough not to disturb her, he usually only needed a single candle. "I should want to help," she said. "It's what a queen would do."

He sighed sadly, his arm tighter around his daughter. "You are setting yourself to some high standards. I admire you for it, but I'm not going to blame you if you change your mind. You are my daughter, Emma. And that love I have for you goes beyond whatever the purpose or use of your magic is for us and this kingdom. Say the word and I will..."

Emma smiled up at her father. "You can't send her or her children away any more than you could send me or Leo. I must do this. I must find a way to beat him."

***AAA***

Emma entered the dining hall of the palace with careful steps as she saw the woman who had been the queen before her mother. For all the stories she had been told, she half expected the woman to have hoofs and horns rather than look beautifully regal and calm. Stopping in front of the woman who Emma knew she could technically call grandmother, she curtsied out of civility and respect.

"It is a pleasure to meet you," Emma said formally as stopped in front of Robin next.

Emma took her seat at her father's right side and her mother at his left as they sat across the table from Regina and Robin. David waited until after the servants had brought the meal and then again for a few more moments until they had dispersed after he had dismissed them. Alone in the room, he fastened each of the doors and looked to Emma once more with a question if she was sure.

"I want to do this," Emma told her father. "I will take on the Dark One."

Snow was quiet as Regina spoke first. "I don't think that's a good idea. I haven't dealt in magic in many years, but you have to realize you are going up against the most powerful of them all. Just because you're born with magic and there are twinkly lights when you make things happen doesn't mean you are prepared to take this man on in any shape or form."

Emma sat up a little straighter. "I'm hardly an amateur. I've been practicing and working on spells since childhood. I've had wonderful teachers."

It was clear to the Princess that Regina was not on board with the idea that Emma could do this. Perhaps it was her desire to have her magic back or her lack of knowledge of Emma's abilities. "And if it was with the Blue Fairy then you probably are very good at parlor tricks, but we're talking dark magic here. And that is not something that we can treat lightly. My mother was an expert at it, but even she was taught by the Dark One."

"There must be someone who can work with Emma to fight this dark magic," Snow said, surprising her daughter with support of the idea. Snow had, on more than one occasion, been resistant to the idea of her daughter harnessing or learning more about these abilities.

The former queen scoffed as her husband and the others listened with rapt attention. "It's not that simple," she said. "Very few people ever attempted to work dark magic. Those who have specialize. They learn to turn into dragons or control animals. They control minds of people or try to bring back the dead. It isn't a wide range unless you are like the Dark One himself. He is a master of all forms."

As a man of action, David was clearly losing patience with the conversation. "I don't see the point of this discussion of magic until we know exactly where the Dark One is right now. Other than him appearing to you, nobody has seen him. So that's the first step. We must find him."

***AAA***

Emma stepped into her bed chambers with dread, finding the room cold and dark. All the talk of her magic and powers had become a burdensome topic that made her skin practically itch. She had never considered herself to be powerful, as most of her magic came from emotions she was unable to tap and control. It was not something she had truly tried to control or even fully understood. Regina had been right, her training was more in line with simple tricks and spells that made life easier or more fun. She could conjure up simple things, move objects with a bit of concentration, and other nonsensical things that did little more than entertain her brother and annoy her parents.

Emma had cried when she first realized that not everyone had these powers. She had curled up into a ball and begged her parents to take this away from her. They had been powerless to do so, telling her that it was a special gift but one she must use sparingly. When the powers she had began to show in unusual ways, they had called in the fairies to help train her. Even with those women helping her, Emma knew that she was different. Nobody wants to be different at a young age when fitting in with a crowd is a key to happiness. It was hard enough to feel normal when the weight of a crown and a kingdom where upon you, but magic made it worse.

Running her fingers along the cool marble of the table beside her bed, she thought to her father's words about responsibility and that she was his daughter first. That might be, but what kind of woman is she if she can't find the compassion to protect a child. She knew then that she wanted to do something, anything she could to help. Her father was right in that they needed to find the Dark One, as that would tell them how best to proceed. Her mother was a phenomenal tracker, as were Red and Granny. She knew her mother was writing to the grandmother and granddaughter for their assistance now. And Emma considered her options too. She could write to Elsa, who as far as Emma knew, was the only other royal to currently have magical abilities. The two young women had bonded over that as children and found themselves discussing the reactions of others and the attributes of such powers over lengthy letters they exchanged.

Emma dashed off a quick letter to her friend, expressing trepidation at the idea of being the sole source of magic against the Dark One. She knew that her friend had faced her own share of foes, though none as menacing as Rumpelstiltskin. Elsa's powers were natural, but they had been honed and trained by an aunt who possessed similar ones.

As Emma sat with her blanket over her shoulders and her eyes drooping shut, the Princess heard a pecking at her window. The sound was a familiar one and for a moment she wondered if Elsa might already be answering, though that seemed impossible given the lack time elapsing. She carefully opened the window to find the yellow bird she had sent to Killian hopping onto the sill and dropping down so that she might untie the note around it.

Though the pressures of the day were weighing on her heavily and her bed called to her as a beacon of respite in the turmoil, Emma uncurled the note and dropped onto the chaise as she had seen her mother do every time the King had been away and sent word back that he was okay. She grinned at the old fashioned penmanship that put even her more flowery writing to shame with grand flourishes.

 _Dearest Emma,_

 _I received your letter this morning and am pleased to know you have returned home and are well. You surely have much to plan for in the days to come so I did not expect to hear from you so soon, though it warms my heart to know that you thought of me so quickly._

Emma's fingers trailed over the inked words on the page, smiling at his comments.

 _My crew and I will be shipping out in a few hours. With the hope of favorable winds, we shall return within the month with a few plans to move inland. Your good thoughts would be most appreciated as we endeavor to make a most harsh journey at that time. While I have kept a sole focus on my vengeance toward the man who took so much from me, the time to extract it is growing near. I shall not drone on about the details of this revenge, but know that it has always been in my destiny._

 _In happier themes, I spoke to the Lucas women this afternoon before returning to my ship to write to you. They are both well and anxiously await word from your family. It seems that they are among your most ardent of supporters, but I'm sure that you already knew that. I count myself among that list, Emma. If you are ever in need of me, all you must do is ask._

Emma bit her lip, reading the rest of his words that spoke of wishing they had more time together and how he had come to look forward to their daily walks and chats. Though she wasn't sure that she could say the same thing to him, she was quite fond of them as well. The next day seemed somewhat empty without the promise of his arrival.

 _I should conclude this letter, as there is much to be done in preparation for our sail. The stars will shine brightly soon with no clouds to mute their glow. Thankfully they will guide me along my way and back again. I hope someday they will guide me back to see you once more._

She could see outside the window she had left open, the cool night air sweeping in and making her grateful for her blanket. From her seat she could see the stars that peppered the sky over the darkened forest and gardens below, offering a comforting thought that he was seeing those same stars too. She knew that was such a typical thing to say and think, but her mind had gone there quickly. She only hoped she would not be in the garden picking daisy petals to better know his mind. That would be too much.

The voice inside her nagged at her mind to write to him to tell him of the search for the Dark One. It was no doubt just as perilous a quest as he was to begin, but she felt vaguely protective of him. He should come to no harm in assisting her, but still the thought that he might be of some help was playing about her like a child taunting her with a toy. She would not do it, she swore to herself. She would not endanger him so that she might see him again.


	11. Chapter 11

_**As I have said, I have several chapters written in advance and had planned to post this yesterday. I didn't. I wasn't happy with one section. So I rewrote it and that changed the whole chapter so I had to fix it. I apologize for the delay, as I have not been feeling well, had a horrible couple of days at work, and am now sleep deprived and hungry.**_

 _ **So thanks to those of you who have written comments, followed, favorited, liked, and given kudos. I must say you are more than motivating me right now.**_

Snow had a nightly ritual that she had kept since she was a small child. She would splash cold water on her face from a basin or other nearby water source, brush out her long dark hair, section her hair off and braid it into a thick rope before tying it off and heading to bed. David had long since learned that she was not to be deterred from that ritual or he would find her up in the middle of the night completing the missed steps.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked David as he sat at the reading desk near the bed they shared. Many married couples of royal birth stopped the sharing of rooms and beds after an heir had been produced, but these two had no such ideas.

"It's Emma's decision," David said distractedly. "She can say no if she wishes. And we should support that."

"I hope she's ready for this," Snow lamented as she began to section off her hair. "She doesn't even know Regina. I at least remember her before she turned so…"

"Nasty?"

"I was going to say bitter," the Queen answered. "Emma's so young. She doesn't know what it was like when Regina was ruling and Rumpelstiltskin was at his most powerful. How close we came to losing her to that awful curse."

David placed the book that he and Robin had been looking at in the library after dinner on the table and looked at his wife. "Emma is a grown woman and capable of her own decisions. She's older than you were when you and I were finally settled into running this kingdom. She's aware of the risk. It's not as though we are planning to send her into battle with the Dark One alone. It's…"

"We don't have a plan," Snow reminded him. "We could very well be sending her into…"

David stood up abruptly. "You can't think I'm going to let her face him alone. Snow, I love my daughter. I won't sit idly by as she destroys her life, especially for someone like Regina. We're simply going to use her power and abilities to scare Rumpelstiltskin. He knows from legend that she is special. He has heard rumor of her abilities. We are going to play that up. Make him paranoid and scared to face her."

"And if that doesn't work?"

"It will work," David said forcefully. "What happened to my optimistic wife who was always telling me how we would triumph?"

Snow's hair was now fully braided and she was pulling back the covers on their bed. "She's scared for her daughter. Why are we doing this? Yes, Regina seems to have changed and it is horrible that her son is in danger. I feel for her and Henry. But how is this our concern?"

David blew out the two candles that adorned the vanity and joined his wife in the massive bed that had been built specifically for that room by Marco. "When you ask it that way, I am not sure why we should help Regina. But she is a member of this kingdom, a kingdom we have vowed to protect from the evil of people like him. And Robin makes a good point, how are we to trust that Rumpelstiltskin would stop at Henry? What if he has bigger plans that would destroy us all?"

Snow adjusted the blanket across their laps and then leaned into his chest as his arm went around her. "Do you think Robin truly loves her? I was surprised to see she is married with a family now. No word of that has ever been spoken to us." David's laugh was a bit too loud and she slapped his chest playfully. "I'm serious. What if he's after her for her money?"

"Just a moment ago you were worried that we were being too kind to her to help her protect her son and now you are worried that she may need our assistance with Robin?"

She groaned. "I know. I know. But she deserves happiness. Everyone does."

"And I will trust that Robin and those boys are her happiness." David said. "Look, we've got a lot of planning to do. Regina's certain that Rumpelstiltskin will come after Henry, but we want to strike first. So we've got to find him. We've got to be ready for him."

***AAA***

Emma's eyes stared toward the ceiling of her room, an ornately designed motif of a night sky that had been there since before she was born. It had always been a comforting sight, a beautiful reminder of just how loved and cherished she had been even before her birth. Growing up she had actually believed it to be her own personal window into heaven, a view that not all were so lucky to see. However, she later learned it was paint that had created it.

Now it seemed to mock her as the morning birds began to chirp and the sky outside her window lightened with the dawn of a new day. She had not slept at all, her mind replaying conversations and moments that she had preferred to keep hidden.

The most prominent in her mind was four years ago. She had stared up at a night sky much like the one in her room and felt the searing pain of childbirth as she labored on the way to the summer palace where she had been hiding. She had bit back the screams of agony as the midwife moved effortlessly to deliver the child she had been carrying for not quite nine months, her anticipation of the moment growing. There was a final wave of pain as she screamed out in agony and then nothing. An eerie silence replacing what had been loud and confused. Her head had raised from the makeshift bed, sweat matting her golden hair to her scalp as she looked toward the kindly woman who was cradling the newborn in her arms. The baby made no noise and other than a thatch of dark and matted hair, Emma did not see the child.

"Is the baby?"

"He's gone," the woman had said almost instantly. She had hurried him away, not allowing Emma even a glance at her son. She longed for that moment, longed to call out that she wanted to see him, hold him and for a moment know what he would have felt like in her embrace. She regretted her mute reply, the quiet tears that fell instead of words.

She'd imagined her son over the years that followed, pictured his firsts, his growth, his coming into boyhood as though he was really there. So to see a boy who was just as her son appeared in her mind's eye had thrown her as sure as a bucking horse would have done. She knew that she must move past this feeling of exhilaration and despair she felt upon seeing Regina's son. It would be hard, but perhaps the concentration on the search for the Dark One would tide her over.

***AAA***

Snow was up with the sun, pacing in the small alcove between her children's rooms. Her long dark hair was twisted into a knot at the base of her neck and her right hand seemed to check on it constantly in a nervous habit. Her ritual of walked four paces and then looking to Emma's door continued until the sound of her daughter's awakening alerted her that she could now speak to the young woman.

"Emma?" she asked, rapping at the door with a closed fist. "It's your mother."

It seemed silly to identify herself in such a way, but she did it as both a sign that she was hiding nothing and a hope that her daughter would be pleased with the visit. The movement in Emma's room stopped and then just as suddenly the door opened. Mother regarded daughter with a concerned yet suspicious eye, taking in the dark circles under the younger woman's eyes and the bleary expression that complemented it.

"Oh my sweet girl," she said, pulling her daughter against her. "You have been up all night?"

Emma continued the embrace for just a moment longer and then pushed back with her palms on the Queen's shoulders. "I wrote to Elsa," she said in a voice much calmer than her demeanor appeared to dictate. "I wanted some advice about magic."

It was a sore spot for the mother who had never embraced the path herself. She had watched both Regina and the former queen's mother struggle with the power of it. The light had given way to murky and then to a sultry dark that both enticed and frightened her. She did not want that fate for her daughter, who seemed to throw about magic as if it was nothing out of the ordinary. Snow would never have been the first to be called by her daughter for advice on the topic, but to hear that her daughter was seeking outside counsel was disconcerting.

"I know that her answer will be a comfort to you," Snow said. Her daughter's white gown gave the tired young woman a ghostly appearance as the long material brushed the floor.

"You needn't worry about me," Emma told her mother, gripping the woman's hands tightly in her own. "I want to do this."

Emma's mother nodded her head and began to explain the day to her daughter. "I have sent for Red and Granny. They should arrive by supper tonight. Graham has called upon some men he knows to help find the Dark One. He is known to cloak his home in an effort to keep people away. Yet some claim to have seen glimpses of it over the years."

"He said he will always leave some clue," Emma said, backing her way into the room. "Just before Baelfire and I were to leave. He told his son that he would always leave a clue to allow Baelfire to come back home. I don't know what he has left, but there must be something."

"It's been four years, Emma," Snow said, following into her daughter's sanctuary. "Surely even the Dark One has given up on leaving clues to allow his son to return home to him."

Emma glanced toward the closed and leaded window. "He isn't easily deterred, quite obsessive really. You know that."

"He has demons within him, Emma," her mother said as she tried to compose herself. "You should have seen him before you were born. He was desperate to learn your name. Said it in the most sickening of ways." Tears were forming in her mother's eyes, but the queen brushed them away with the back of her hand. "We went to him at our most desperate. You were due to be born and the curse was upon us. He told us then that you were special, that you would be the one to undo the curse."

Emma had heard of the curse, but she had never been told the full extent of it. "What do you mean undo the curse?"

"The man speaks in riddles, but he was clear about that. He said that it would be you and that you would be 28 years old. I don't know any more than that. It was a comfort at the time to know that it would someday end, but then it failed. It didn't work."

"Love won over hate," Emma said, repeating the phrase that her father had often used when describing the curse to his daughter. "Your true love was stronger."

"Perhaps," Snow said. "But I would think it likely that Rumpelstiltskin has some sinister sort of plan for Henry. Regina, Robin, and your father are headed to the library vault today to study up on some of the curses and spells that might fit."

"And you will be staying behind to wait for Red and Granny?"

"Yes, I should. I was thinking that perhaps we should summon Blue. She might help you prepare?"

***AAA***

The Jolly Roger's sails were freshly made without the benefit of magic, but that was not that big of a deal to the men planning to sail with her. It was Killian who had the harder time looking upon the crisp white material with anything but disdain for what should have been there. That was one of his last thoughts as he returned to the inn for a final inspection of his belongings he had been keeping there in what had been his home until late.

The doorway on the side of the building was a low one, probably meant for the seven men of not much height who visited with Granny and Red on a regular basis. He had to duck to enter it and avoid hitting his head on the low overhead beam. Killian covered the brass knob with his hand and tried to turn it, finding the door locked for the first time he had ever encountered it.

"They're gone," Lily said as she rounded the corner. "Locked up and set off for some place. I don't know what they were thinking."

"Aye, just as well," Killian muttered in reply. He gave a half salute kind of gesture with his hand and turned.

"She put a spell on you, didn't she? That Emma girl?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, lass," Killian answered. He had his suspicions, but talking about them with Lily made no sense. "Emma and a spell?"

Snorting inelegantly, Lily turned to face the water. "Fine, don't listen to me. But she's a witch. Makes sense she'd be close with a family of lycans. But you falling for her is a disaster. Women like that…"

Killian tuned her out, waving a quick goodbye as he crossed over the alleyway to the dry goods store. "Have you heard from the Lucas women?" he asked, feeling strange at their sudden disappearance. "Any word from them?"

"Something about old friends summoning them for help," the middle aged and accented man behind the counter said. "Now are you buying or just looking."

"Asking," Killian said, running a hand over the counter's built in measuring device. "Tell me what you know."

"I just did," he said impatiently. "Now I've got customers."

Killian took a step back as the man helped two young women pick out lace for the dressmaker in town. They were excited about their first ever dance that was supposed to take place in a few weeks to mark the beginning of summer. He glanced about the practical items, inventorying his supplies in his head when he saw the necklace glinting out from under a thick catalog. He pulled it out and stared at the pendant of an anchor, its fine details remarkably intricate and accurate for such a small piece. He let the chain dangle over the fingers of his right hand, trying not to consider the implications of buying a bauble such as that. However, when the clerk came back and asked after the item, Killian dropped a few coins on the counter and carried it back to his ship with excuses pouring out of his brain already.

***AAA***

Elsa's letter arrived by midmorning, announcing that she would travel as soon as it was safe to do so. "I cannot leave you to face this foe alone, Emma. This is not a statement of your not being fit to face him, but one of my desire to join you in the task."

Emma was secretly thankful for the support that was coming in a magical form rather than an emotional one. Though her mother had yet to contact the Blue Fairy, Emma was sure that she should at least get in some practice before anyone else arrived. So kissing her mother's cheek after breakfast and trying to ignore the pangs in her chest as the innocent eyed Henry watched her leave, Emma stole into the inner chambers of the palace. Snow had ordered this area constructed for her archery practice, though Emma preferred the cross-bow that Granny had taught her to use.

Emma stood in what felt like a long stone hallway with a ball at one end. Her hands were raised and she felt the tingling release as she levitated the ball and then lowered it with a less than graceful drop. Frowning, she tried again.

"You can't celebrate too soon," the unfamiliar voice of Regina cut through the haze of her concentration. "You have to visualize it to its completion, fully engage." Emma's head whipped in the direction of the voice, the ball wobbling in the air as she did so. "No, don't look at me. Look at the ball. Imagine a hand holding it steady."

Emma's green eyes narrowed onto the orb that her brother liked to lob over the stone wall of the garden. There were a few moments of instability but the advice worked and she steadied it. Regina offered her no praise as Emma would expect from Blue or even Elsa when she performed such a task.

"I did it," she said proudly, again causing the ball to dip.

"And you celebrated too soon. Steady it." Regina's voice was crisp like the morning weather. Her tone echoed off the stone walls. "Now lower it. Slowly. It's not a race. Control is much more important than speed at this point. Picture the ball as a person you are moving out of the way. You don't want to drop them. You don't want the jostle them."

Emma's lip indented as her teeth bit into it. The ball shook for a moment and then came to rest on the floor without incident. Lowering her hands, the Princess turned to the other woman and smiled brightly. "Not bad, right? I should thank you for your…"

"It was a ball, Emma," the former queen admonished. "You must have been doing that particular trick for years. If not, we are going to be grossly outplayed by the Dark One. That's a child's game, not true magic. Turn the ball into something. Make it a weapon. That's what we need." She thrust one hip out, a fist at it as if she was holding back the magic she didn't have any longer. "Magic isn't we dabble in. It's a path for the strongest souls. Don't feel ashamed if you aren't ready. Just be honest about it."

Emma's anger boiled as she tried to ignore the fact that this woman criticizing her was the same woman who came begging her parents for help. The binding cuff was peeking out from beneath the sleeve of her dress and Emma realized that Regina must want so badly to do this herself. "I am a bit rusty and out of practice," Emma said, hoping to squelch the woman's fears. "I was just trying…"

"We don't have time for children's games, Emma. We need to be ready." And though she did not disappear into a cloud of smoke, she was gone from the area in a hurry and left Emma with a gnawing feeling in her stomach that she was hiding something.

***AAA***

Well brought up ladies took naps in the afternoon, at least that is what Johana would say to her as she encouraged such a thing for Emma. There were few things Emma hated more, especially when her little brother outgrew the concept. Snow did not encourage it, but after a night of no sleep, Emma gladly took advantage of the rest at the same time as Roland and Henry were scurried away to the nursery on the same floor.

Despite her exhaustion, Emma's sleep was fitful. She would sleep for only a few minutes at a time and then stare at the ceiling in abject horror over a dream or thought. Maybe that was why she heard the whimper and the shuffled steps of a child outside her door. Emma threw open the door to see the chocolate brown eyes and hair of the little boy she had fled from hours earlier. "Henry, are you okay?"

The boy nodded, asked for his mother and then jumped as the sound of the servants moving some piece of furniture sounded too much like a thunderous crash. Emma held her breath as she knelt before him and clucked sympathetically over his obvious distress. "I don't know but we'll find her," Emma told him. He took her proffered hand, his own small and stubby with youth. "Let's see what we can find."

The two stole down the corridor, Emma peeking into the room where the boys had been sleeping to make sure that Roland seemed to be slumbering. She swung his hand a bit in playful manner to put aside the feelings of fear and uncertainty that they were both feeling in that moment. Through his tear filled eyes, he gazed up to her and offered a cautious smile of hope. "This place is so big," he said with a bit of awe in his voice.

"It isn't so bad when you get to know it," Emma said. "And there are plenty of places to hide and play. Perhaps we can find some of them for you?" She looked around as though there might be spies afoot. Focusing on a large tapestry that appeared to depict a door in the middle of a garden, she knelt down to the boy again, lifting his left arm and using his index finger to point at it. "See that door there? Well, it's a real door. Only the most special people can make it open. Perhaps you and Leo and I can explore it sometime?" She meant to bring up Roland too, but she couldn't for the life of her remember the child's name.

Looking less traumatized and more curious, he stared up toward her again. "Can Roland come too?"

"Of course," Emma promised him. The two passed by some of the lesser used rooms, including the ballroom and adjoining sitting areas where her parents typically entertained. She could see the servants bustling about to prepare spots for Granny, Ruby, and Elsa who were all due in soon. Her mother was supervising them, instructing on where the sheets needed to be changed and special touches each room should have.

Her mother jumped as Emma said her name. "Emma! You scared me!" The Queen threw her hands over her chest and laughed. "And you brought a guest."

Emma felt the tiny tug of Henry's hand in hers. "Mother, you know Henry. We're looking for Regina, as he's missing his mother right now."

"Oh my," Snow said, frowning at Emma before turning on her best motherly smile. "Regina and Robin have gone with your father to speak to some of the guards. They won't be back for a bit."

Emma's heart sank as the little boy's bottom lip trembled. "Oh that's quite alright, mother. I was telling Henry of the secret passage in the great hall. Perhaps we could go explore it now? Your brother should be waking up soon."

Smiling sweetly at both of them, Snow clapped her hands together. "Wonderful idea," she exclaimed. "I haven't thought about that passage in so long." She bent forward to be more on Henry's level. "Emma used to play with her dolls in there."

"Dolls?" Henry asked in a petrified voice.

"It's okay," Emma said. "I'm sure Leo has some toys we can borrow."

***AAA***

Killian's shoulders slumped as she dug his hand into his pocket and stared over the edge of the railing into the water. He was, he thought forlornly, an idiot. Every part of his body was telling him that Emma was in need of something. That had to be where the Lucas women were going. Yet she had not mentioned that need to him. She had not turned to him when he could surely offer her some sort of support.

"Blackbeard's ship was spotted not more than a day from here," Smee told him. Killian nodded and pretended to smile the best he could in a way that would show he was looking forward to the battle. To tell the truth, he couldn't have cared any less at that moment. The gnawing at his gut was growing from annoying to a burning sensation.

He almost asked Smee of the developments of Mist Haven, as the first mate would assuredly know more than most people. He was always listening, observing and taking in his surroundings. But Killian didn't ask, again settling back on the fact that Emma seemed to not want him to know and had not requested his assistance. He might have let his mind jostle this a while longer had that yellow bird not landed on the wheel of his ship and stared toward him with practical assurance.

Leaving the ship in his crew's capable hands, Killian was quickly shutting the door to his cabin with the rolled paper in his hand. His eyes quickly scanned the page, considering the narrow writing and lack of flourish as a sign of her stress.

 _Dear Killian,_

 _I hope that my letter finds you well and that your sea voyage is everything that you wish it to be. It has been weighing heavily upon me that I never fully answered your question as to my powers. I am reluctant to say too much in writing for fear of this falling into the wrong hands. Your assessment has been right and I do possess something beyond others._

She never directly referred to any pending danger, but she did speak of her magic in terms of learning to wield its powers to protect her family. And though he could not see her, he detected the nervousness at this revelation. She was clearly not herself as she revealed this truth about herself, one that he would be remiss to not see as a true step forward. She did trust him with this secret.


	12. Chapter 12

The palace was a beautiful but usually desolate place with wings that were not used and rooms that were dusted for nobody. With Regina and her family staying there, Granny and Red taking up another two rooms, the expectation of Elsa arriving, the dwarfs coming in and out, Graham camping out in one of the libraries, and word coming to expect more family friends, the palace no longer seemed as large.

"I'm surprised to find you alone," David told his daughter when he saw her attempting to fill a mug with water. The princess was leaned forward, her lavender dress pressed against the wood of the desk. Her eyes were shut tight and her lips barely parted as she concentrated. "I assumed Regina or Blue to be with you."

"Blue had to attend to other matters," Emma explained, staring in frustration at the empty mug that did not contain so much as a drop. "And Regina is not much of an encouragement." She frowned, still not sure how she should refer to the woman. For several years Regina had been the only mother figure in Snow's life. But so much had happened, so many bridges burned. Emma supposed she should take her cues from her parents.

"Encouragement is not truly a trait that Regina embodies," the King said with a sardonic laugh. "But she might have some good advice for you, nonetheless."

Emma nodded, folding her hands in her lap. "Was there something you wanted to see me about?"

David's face softened as he walked past his daughter to the window and peered down on the gardens below. It had not been such a long time ago that he would have tended gardens not half as beautiful, but now he was expected to rule over a land with his wife by his side. He'd had no guidance for such a task other than his wife so there was an understanding in him at Emma's reluctance to fully embrace her magic. It had to be scary to consider.

"When I learned of Rumpelstiltskin's plan to take Henry, I must say that I was wary. But I do know what it is like to have a child threatened in such a manner."

Emma nodded, her father's fear having been evident even in her early life. "I'm glad to help, Papa," she said, using her childhood name for him. "I wouldn't want Henry to suffer."

The man sighed a bit raggedly, his shoulders squared as he watched his daughter try to read him. "You're good at that, you know? Reading people. You have always seen through the lies that people tell."

"You've never lied to me," Emma reminded him. "So I don't worry about you."

"But I must ask you if you sense Regina is lying? I worry that perhaps we are being too quick to trust her." David was not used to asking his daughter what she thought, as he still in many ways viewed her as the child who had followed him around begging to be included. "She seems changed, but I don't want to be wrong about this."

The lines between Emma's eyebrows deepened as she considered this. "I don't remember her before this," she admitted. "I remember talk of her and the worry and the fear. I remember you teaching me about the passage ways and Mother telling me that you both would find me no matter what occurred. I remember the alarm bells at night and the fear that she might find a way to harm us all."

The King crossed the room to his daughter, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You should not have had your childhood marred by that. You shouldn't have had to fear her or anything. I failed you in that way. I didn't protect you from it all."

"No, you did protect me. You kept me here with you. You watched over me and slayed each demon and dragon that threatened us."

"Not each," her father said sadly. "I did not save you from the Dark One's son. And now I may have invited the enemy within our home. I'm asking my only daughter to defend her kingdom because I am not able to do so. I am not pleased with the man I am becoming in all this."

Emma placed a hand over her father's. "You did not fail me," she said firmly. "And I must learn to not fail you." She closed her eyes again, thinking of the water that had fallen from the sky the day that she had met Killian. Instead of imagining the mug in front of her, she pictured the blue of his eyes and way that the drops of rain had streaked down his face.

Before she even opened her eyes, she heard her father gasp and then laugh. "You have changed," he said. "You are becoming quite adept at that."

"It isn't enough," Emma reminded him. "I cannot defeat the darkest of magic with water."

"Perhaps not, but you are opening yourself up to your magic. And that is not something your mother nor I can do. Our aim is not for you to challenge this man to a magical duel. This battle will be one where we must use our wits as much as our swords." He dipped a finger into the water and lifted to inspect as though he couldn't believe it was truly water. "Remarkable."

***AAA***

Two weeks had passed since he had last seen Emma, but that did not mean that Killian was sitting and doing nothing. Her messages came nearly daily, usually laced with sweet messages and daily routine that neither soothed his worry nor added to it. She said nothing of the danger she was in, leaving him both clueless and helpless in the greater scheme of things. He followed them up with messages that were a combination of observations of the sea, stories from his own past life, or answers to her questions.

He went through the motions of his daily life, but he found himself distracted and thinking of new things to say to her. He wondered about her life, wondered if she was happy or just doing what was expected. He hoped it was the former, as her happiness was key to anyone who might care a thing about her.

Climbing to the top deck, the pirate sighed as he walked toward the stern of his ship. The clanking of swords and scent of burning wood assaulted Killian's senses as he boarded the opposing ship, stepping over discarded plunder and watching his men do what they did best. Usually he was right along with them, joining forces against an enemy. But he seemed a bit lazy as he drew himself into the skirmish just as the last of the men on the ship were surrendering.

"Captain," Smee called out, his eyes wild with the anticipation of counting that ship's haul. "We've secured the lower decks. This should be quick work as we predicted."

Killian nodded, telling the man that they had done fine work. It was the third ship that they had taken over in as many days. His men were regaining that fire in their eyes and his own steps were a bit livelier. Still it felt as though he was going through the motions. Each ship a nameless entity, he counted his treasury growing and ignored the ache inside that he was somehow letting Emma down by not being by her side in whatever the trouble was in Mist Haven.

They two of them had exchanged letters daily, the bird finding him no matter how far from shore. Its yellow feathers stood out from the white and gray of the gulls. "Carry the chest and the safe aboard. Any powder too, as the Jolly Roger is running low on that supply."

"Aye," Smee answered, pointing one of the younger men in the direction of the errands and telling the others to follow. They did so easily as a few finished off taking control of the smattering of crew left. "I thought you might like to inspect the captain's quarters yourself."

Offering a genuine smile to the man, Killian descended down to the more opulent design of the room for the ship's leader. Darker wood than his own, Killian wrinkled his nose at the ornate golden sea creatures both real and mythical that seemed far too large for the small space. He had a few such ornaments of his own, but they were carved of wood and did not take up so much space. Smee was right that no man had entered the room, the neatness almost unnerving as though the owner had merely stepped away for a moment with no knowledge about his fate.

The ship had been that of a privateer, apparently a successful one if Killian was judging right by the decorations. Thick leather bound books lined shelves with titles that were both familiar and unknown to him. Trinkets in the form of art were displayed on many of the walls and surfaces. However, it was the portrait over the desk that drew his attention. A woman with golden hair had been painted holding an infant in her arms and a toddler at her side with his head upon his mother's shoulder. Obviously the man's family, Killian reasoned by the location of the portrait and its prominence. It was lovely, but a bit out of place among the room's other finery. The woman and toddler were dressed in clothes of that time and realm, which Killian knew was confirmation that this was not the man's mother but his contemporary and probably his wife.

The man was sitting on deck with his hands and feet tied so that escape would not be a possibility. One of the pirates was watching him, probably with the pointed end of a blade at him. And somewhere, Killian realized, were this man's wife and children. He staggered a bit whether from the roughness of the waters or the incidental force of the two ships colliding in their closeness. He was not a man who usually thought of such things, never considering the family of the men he met in battle. He judged that this woman was pretty, not as beautiful as Emma, but a soft a pretty woman. Was she waiting for her husband, caring for their children as he sailed the seas? Did she miss him?

Sentimentality was not usually found with any of the men in Killian's path, but he had wondered about it. He carried a hair ribbon in his pocket and a pendant for when he might see her again, though he had a right to place it around her neck.

His mind wandered a bit, imagining such a life himself. What if Emma had been a young widowed mother like he had assumed. What if she wasn't of royal blood? Would he have had it in him to make her a part of his life, to become a part of hers? What if he were still a lieutenant in the navy rather than a pirate? Would he have gone to her father for permission to court her? Yes, he would have been beneath her station even with the commission and accolades he would have earned over the years. But perhaps it could have come to pass, as a lieutenant seemed a more palpable companion for a princess than a pirate.

"Sir?" The voice that came from the door way was breathless either from the exertion of the take over or the excitement of it. "There is a…"

Killian tore his eyes from the portrait and stared harshly at the man there in the doorway. Sable or Sanal or something that like, the boy barely looked old enough to have facial hair. He was probably the youngest member of Killian's crew, having come aboard after a game of dice where he had lost his parents' cow and two horses to the bar owner. Killian had felt sorry for the lad and offered him quarter so as to avoid a messy scene at home. "What is it you are trying to say, lad? It isn't as bad as all that?"

"There's a bird. A yellow one. It is sitting upon the railing and has Mr. Smee quite uneasy." There were plenty of superstitions about such things, but it never ceased to amuse Killian at his first mate's utter fascination with them.

"I shall see to it," Killian said, casting another glance at the cabin. "While I'm at it, see that this room is left as it is. No other should cross its threshold."

"Sir?"

"No other," the Captain repeated. "And see that the man who slept here is brought to me in an hour. I wish to have a word with him."

"But sir, we are transporting them to the brig…"

"Then bring him to me first or after. I don't care which. I need to see him."

***AAA***

The clanging of the swords echoed loudly as Emma sparred with the King. Her form was near perfection and her arms extended into the perfect angle as she brushed his protected chest with the tip of the weapon. Her dour expression of concentration broke into a smile as she heard Red and her mother cheer out for her, congratulating her on a bold move.

"If the fight with the Dark One was a fencing match, I'd say we had nothing to worry about," David said, sheathing his sword and pulling his daughter into his side. "You are a natural, my dear."

"She's better with a bow and arrow," the Queen mused, not missing the pointed look from her daughter. "But there is nothing wrong at being proficient with both. I have done that myself."

Red hopped down from the fence and joined the royal family as they moved into the main hall of the castle. "Granny would argue the crossbow is far more accurate, but I'm of the opinion that Emma can intimidate anyone with her strength and cunning."

Blushing and shaking her head at the flattery, Emma looked up toward the balcony that split the rooms of the wing she had grown up in for all those years. Leo, Henry, and Roland were out there with Granny, the older woman showing them something in the distance. Just as she had been, they were rapt with attention. She could remember the woman telling her about woodland creatures in a much more practical way than her mother who would speak of them as beautiful examples of God's work or as Graham had in terms of meat and prey. Granny spoke of them in terms of checking a squirrel's coat to see what the upcoming winter would be like or if a storm was coming by how low to the ground a bird flew. Part of her wished she could run up there and be a part of the lesson again, but she knew she couldn't.

"Have you heard from Elsa?" her mother asked. "I did believe she would be here by now."

Emma had received messages from Elsa each day, messages that were filled with hope and suggestions about her magic. "She is awaiting the waters to be cleared of ice around her kingdom before she sets sail." Elsa was a queen now, ever since her parents' death left the crown to her. She was an introverted person with good intentions and a royal demeanor that suited the position. Like Emma she had been born with magic that had threatened to destroy what she loved, but she had finally embraced it with that same gentleness that made her both a wonderful woman and queen.

"I know that the Blue Fairy has helped, but I can't help but think that Elsa's presence would be of great assistance too," the Queen said as she fell in line next to her husband and reached her hand out to grasp his. In the days that had passed since Regina and Robin's arrival, the Blue Fairy had come and gone, leaving Emma with instructions and exercises that felt much like her studies as a child.

"It would," Emma agreed quietly. "It will be. We just have to get her here safely. I don't feel it is my place to insist that she come here by ship in treacherous conditions when her parents died that way."

Red gave a sidelong glance at her goddaughter, her hands on her narrow hips. "You could contact the Captain," she told her. "He's by far the best at navigating those types of waters and his ship is the fastest according to everyone who knows that sort of thing."

"I don't wish to disturb him," Emma said, not adding that she had written such letters three times already and then discarded them. She was certain that he would come to her aid, probably touting his resume of similar missions as he did it. However, she was not sure she wanted to include him in this. While no one would admit to her, other than Regina, just how dangerous this all was and could be, Emma knew that she could be walking into a trap.

Her father stayed silent, still not having been brought up to speed on any man spending time with his only daughter. It was not for lack of trying, as he had questioned and Emma had given a series of vague answers that seemed all too worrisome to him. Leo had not been much help either, as the boy could not quite explain what he meant when it came to this man whom his daughter seemed at least interested in as more than an acquaintance. "If it is a naval vessel she's needing, I have several at my disposal."

Red looked affronted by the suggestion, but less so than Emma who was clearly not having it. "He's a fine Captain," Emma mumbled. "If she can't find a way soon, I'll contact him." She hoped that would be enough to assuage her mother's friend.

Emma's mother ignored the looks between Red and her daughter. "I have been thinking," she announced. "Perhaps we should attempt to draw the Dark One out. I know that he has said he will come for Henry, but if we draw him out then we could certainly take him by surprise."

"Is that not the point of finding him and his castle, darling?" David said. "If we take the fight to him, then the element of surprise is on our side."

***AAA***

He told himself not to read her letter until after he spoke to the captain of the other ship, not wanting to rush through it or mar it with the strategy of this conference. However, it practically sung to him, held out hope for him that she would share something new. He had commented in the last letter to her that he was surprised that she was as accepting of his lack of a hand as she had been in the village. Most people either were repulsed by it or in fearful awe. She simply viewed it as nothing of consequence. When Red had served some meat dish to him at the pub, he had caught Emma through the door of the kitchen chopping it up finer so that he might not have to struggle with it. When he had questioned her on it, she had merely shrugged and told him that she did not wish to see him tear through it with his hook nor starve for the lack of thoughtfulness.

His eyes wandered to the paper again, her script still a cross between beauty and practicality as she was for him.

 _Anyone who would think less of you for your lack of a hand is a fool. I don't see you that way. I see the struggle that you must have overcome at the loss of it and the daily struggle you go through now on what you must have at one point considered easy tasks. Your hiding it from me made me think that perhaps you did not think I was strong enough to stomach such, but now I realize you wished to maintain the illusion that you were somehow unmarred and unscathed by your years as a pirate. That would make me the fool, as there are very few ways of living that don't leave us with scars either visible or not. You wear yours at your damaged wrist and I wear mine inside. But I will have you know the pain is just as profound for each._

There was something to appreciate about her boldness, he thought as the sounds of boots marching the prisoner to him grew louder. She might wear the title of princess and look like an angel with a tiara held up by her curls (he assumed), but she was strong and daring with her thinking, something that he quite enjoyed about her. He could picture her reading the books that he had enjoyed, discussing them with him with a laugh in her voice as she stunned him with some revelation that he had never even considered.

He tucked the letter away just before the men brought the other captain to him, hoping that he could do the same with the thoughts of her. He hoped that the thoughts that plagued him would dissipate, but they seemed to grow more as he read her letters and began to realize even more how captivating she actually was over all the beauty she possessed. The beauty of her hair, her eyes, her countenance had of course struck him when he first met her, even sopping wet in the rain, but each conversation had only elevated that. And now without the vision of her before him, he could honestly say that she was enchanting.

"Captain Hook," Smee said, his arm dragging a much taller man into the room. He looked pleased with himself as if he had somehow captured him alone, though Killian knew better. "You wanted a word with the prisoner."

Killian's face was hidden by the late afternoon shadows, but he still kept it expressionless as he dismissed the crew that brought the man to him. They might have been a bit shocked at that, as a prisoner rarely got a private moment with Killian. Nothing was said at first as the prisoner dropped himself unceremoniously to a chair that had been fastened to the floorboards for when the seas got rough. His hands and ankles shackled, the man struggled with the task.

"You mean to kill me," the man said finally, breaking the silence with a brave but wavering voice. "I don't hold any secrets that could assist you so I don't think there is much use in torturing me. So why am I here?"

Killian almost smiled, as he would have asked and wondered the same questions. There were no rules written for such circumstances, but he was sure this would break those that were assumed. "I have you a bit confused, I suppose."

The man was not about to give Killian that admission. "I only wish to know what you want of me. You've taken my ship. You looted it for everything of value and probably destroyed what you didn't steal. I can't imagine that I would be worth that much to you alive. There is no one to pay the ransom."

The portrait on the wall of his cabin said different, but Killian didn't show that card quite yet. "No one?" he asked. "You have no family? No wife?" Not interested in the idea of a ransom, Killian had not planned to do that. He simply wanted to know if his feelings were correct, though that was a dangerous proposition.

The man said nothing. "No one of means. Not anymore."

The man's fidgeting did not go unnoticed by Killian. "But there must be someone. Someone of limited means, perhaps?" When the man said nothing, Killian took a step in that direction, again noticing the slight flinch. "I doubt you will believe this, but I don't mean to hurt you. I only wish…" He was not sure what he wished. Did he truly have a plan? He wanted to know if his assumptions were right, but then what? What could he do with him?

"I have a wife and two sons," the man said in a tentative voice. "I have not seen them in months and now…And now they may or may not receive a letter that I have been captured and killed. I knew of the dangers and my wife did too, but it is not as though we ever think this will happen to us." A rosy blush covered the man's ruddy complexion, having said too much. "But I know I shall never see them again now."

Killian closed his eyes. If he were to send this man away and back to his ship, he'd lose any credibility he had. Yet the portrait haunted him, the kind way the woman's mouth turned up and the softness of the scene. He did not want to send a man to his death and know that someone suffered for the loss. Two sons, he thought with his hand furling and unfurling. Two sons just like he and his brother. He knew that his mother had desperately missed his father in their time apart, but he had never considered the man who was his father. Had his father missed them as well? Had he had moments of regret? When he had abandoned his children, had he considered the repercussions or held second thoughts about it?

"You will see them," Killian said, scaring himself with the voice that echoed in the wooden room.

***AAA***

Emma's head swam as her brother read aloud from the text that Johanna had instructed him to read. His clipped voice stuttered over a few of the words but Leo and Roland sat enthralled that this boy not much older than they were could make sense of the scribblings on the page. Both of the younger boys sat with their legs crossed and heads tilted back as Leo read and sat in the chair that David usually used. Emma was quieter, off to the side, helping him sound out the words from time to time as she pulled out Elsa's letter and read it to herself.

"What's this word?" Leo asked, having given up his attempt. He held up the tattered book and pointed to it with his finger. "Emma?"

Her hair bounced as she shook herself from the concentration and looked closely. "Triumph," she said with a smile. "And you know what that means."

Leo smiled broadly, turning the book back to himself. "The villagers danced in triumph," he read surely and confidently.

Both of the boys smiled, realizing that the battle that Leo had been reading about was concluded successfully. "That's a great story," Roland breathed, nudging his brother with his shoulder. "I like it."

"Maybe there's another," Henry added, jumping to his feet and running for the shelves of books where he stared as though he could make sense of the titles.

"I'm afraid there isn't time for that," Emma told the boys, straightening her skirts as she stood. "Your parents want you downstairs for a meal soon and Leo must finish his arithmetic."

Pouting but still playful, Henry and Roland dashed from the room after a quick delay. To Emma's amusement, the boys bowed to her as they had been taught and asked to be excused. She almost giggled at the sight that was usually reserved for her mother. Telling them it was not necessary, she waved them off and turned to her brother. He was reluctantly pulling out the work he had to do.

"Do you think that his ship is like the one in the story, Emma?" he asked, his lopsided grin shining through.

"Whose ship?" Emma asked, trying to recall what ship he was even talking about.

"Killian's ship," her brother announced with a slightly frustrated grimace. What else could he have been talking about? "Do you think his ship is so fast and powerful that it might travel the realms on a single gust of wind?" So that was what the story's ship had done that so enthralled all three of the boys.

"I don't know that there is any ship truly that powerful," Emma said, realizing that her brother was disappointed in her answer. "But I'm sure that Killian's ship comes close."

Placated, the boy turned back to his assignment. "Are you going to help me?" he asked. Leo was smart as they came, but his confidence was lacking. Emma smiled politely and dipped her head.

"I must finish this letter," she said. "I will look at the problems with you after."

Leaving him to his work, Emma walked to the bench by the largest of the library's windows. When she was a young girl she would curl up there and read or watch the festivities for events she was too young to attend at the time. The thick pillows made for a comfortable seat as she pulled her legs up under her dress. Elsa's letter was a bit distressing, as the Queen explained that her sister was expecting and traveling north to be with Kristoff's family during the upcoming weeks.

 _I have promised to help you and I shall. I will arrive as soon as I can and as soon as this ship comes available. While there are others in the armada, I am distrustful of their crews to bring them to Misthaven. For there is evidence that they are much more entrenched with the Dark One that one could imagine. My advisors have agreed to ferret out the spies among them, but I will not rest easy upon their ships until this is done._

Emma glanced at her brother's tousled head, bent over the book and calculating sums at a much faster pace than she had assumed him capable. He was so young and unaware of the danger, so eager for his life to truly begin. He believed in magic and in the good in people. She wished for a moment she could be that innocent too. However, she had other things on her mind.

Placing the lap desk across her and holding the tip of the pen over the paper, Emma sighed. She would do this. If Elsa needed a way by sea to get to Mist Haven, she would ask him.

 _Enjoy watching Once Upon A Time tonight or whenever you watch it!_


	13. Chapter 13

The waters around the far northern kingdom were still littered with ice and a low hanging fog that made the waters all the more treacherous and imposing. The breath of Killian's crew hung in the air as the tall spires of the kingdom's castle could be seen growing larger as they approached.

"We're now acting as couriers?" one of the crew members muttered just within earshot of Killian. He knew that they were questioning his dedication and malice at that point. He had shocked them all by releasing a prisoner. Shocked them again by increasing their shares in the treasure earned and retrieved. And still again when he refused to fire upon an unarmed ship in the spirit of it not being up to good form.

He did not bother to explain to the young boatswain that he had learned he was depositing the kingdom's queen just a day's journey from the Dark One's hidden abode. There was one thing he still carried with him from his brother's teachings. A true leader never tries to persuade his followers through explanation. They must believe and respect their leader enough to follow on faith. He hoped they would.

Having no way of knowing what sort of entourage the young queen might have, Killian had set about preparing a few of the areas below deck for her service. A room for her. A room for any assistances. A cabin for other assorted staff. He even had Keever, the cook aboard, work out a list of suitable foods and supplies that they might acquire to satisfy her discerning appetite.

While the Jolly Roger had once been a part of the navy's fleet, Killian was not all together sure that she had ever transported royalty. So with the smattering of crew that had come along, the Captain made sure that each of the lines were tight and they were bringing her into port safely. While he expected to see a queen with an entourage and a mountain of luggage, he found nothing of the sort as the image of the tall woman with white blonde hair came into view. She was a few years older than Emma, but already in command of a kingdom. Dressed in icy blue, she showed no signs of the cold that still incased the northern kingdom.

"Your highness," he said quite formally. She did not accept his hand and stepped aboard the ship with no assistance. There was no smile on her face and no sign that she was somehow inspecting the surroundings. "The Princess instructed me…"

"I know," she interrupted, her chin held high. "She must be in a dire condition to think I should travel with pirates to come to her."

"I assure you that we are at your service, milady. No harm shall come to you while you are aboard the Jolly Roger." He paused to let her come to terms with his statement, but she showed no signs of any sort of agreement. "The Princess does seem to be in some need to ask me this favor. And to ask you to journey to her."

Soft spoken was an understatement, he decided when he recalled Emma's description of her friend. He had a hard time seeing the vivaciousness of Emma melding well with the quiet determination of Elsa, but he supposed that made for better friendships anyway. Who wanted to be around people who were exactly like themselves?

"I think I should like to rest a bit before we discuss our route," Elsa informed him. "I trust that you can maneuver us without my direction for a bit."

Taken aback by her statement, he assured her that she was on the best ship she could be for the journey and led her to the quarters set up for her. The sheets were probably nowhere near as soft or delicate as she was used to, but they were clean and worn to softness that was comparable. Hand stitched blankets were folded neatly and a cabinet had been refashioned as a wardrobe for her service. She was about to dismiss him when she stopped, her bright eyes narrowing on him suspiciously. "Have any birds…"

"There is no word from Emma, your majesty," he said, staggering back as he realized he had referred to the Princess by her name. "I mean, the Princess has not had a message that has arrived."

"It's okay, Captain," she answered softly. "Emma has never been one for titles and propriety in that way. She's been as comfortable with a servant as with a head of state."

"It is quite an admirable trait."

Elsa's gloved hand waved in front of her. "I can see that she has earned that admiration from you." She breathed in deeply. "I am not sure how you know her. A pirate becoming a trusted ally of a princess is not something one hears of that often."

"Nor is a queen trusting a pirate for transportation," Killian reminded her. "I'm afraid there is not much in the way of normalcy about this situation, your highness. But I promise you that I have no ill intent. Emma's letter reached me while I was in close proximity, and I hurried along to retrieve you for her."

Elsa nodded curtly, her white blonde hair spilled over one shoulder. "Emma will be pleased that you are being so helpful."

***AAA***

The Blue Fairy hovered over Emma's left shoulder as she watched her protégé attempt to break apart the rock settled on the grass before her. She offered no advice, only the gentle hum of her wings beating broke the silence between Emma's sighs of concentration.

"I can't do it," Emma moaned loudly. "It's too hard to do. I can't…"

The fairy flew in front of Emma's face, her voice high but steady. "Emma, you can't doubt yourself. This is a natural part of you. You must harness it and make it your own."

The Princess's face scrunched in half determination and half frustration. "It doesn't feel natural," she said. Waving her fingers in front of her mentor, she frowned. "These are just hands. They are meant to break apart boulders or send fire from the tips of my fingers. It's not natural."

"Perhaps we should take a break," Blue said, not waiting for Emma's response before she disappeared.

Emma stared forlornly at the spot where the sparkling fairy had been. Time was of the essence, as surely the Dark One would appear at any moment. While her father said he had no intention of having his daughter fight the Dark One, the preparations for her to be able to defend herself were certainly important. She was doing better at making things appear, small things and some larger. Levitation of items had become easier, as had defending herself against bursts of magic – though she had a few bruises to prove otherwise.

"What were you attempting?" her mother asked, finding her daughter dropping down to pick up the rock. "I would think skimming stones, but I doubt Blue would have you do that." The Queen reached a hand out to touch the rock as if to test its realness. Finding it an actual rock, she drew her hand back. "Emma?"

The Princess's face contorted as tears threatened. "I don't know that I can do this," she said. "I don't feel like this is me."

Her mother dropped down next to her daughter, ignoring the damp grass and letting it stain the long gown she wore. "I didn't want you to have magic," she said, her eyes still looking at the rock. "I begged Blue to take it away from you. I swore we would find a way to hide it from the world."

Emma blinked, looking at her mother. "You were ashamed?"

"No," her mother said. "I was scared. I was worried. Other than fairies, nobody I knew had magic and remained good. Regina, Cora, Rumpelstiltskin all struggled against everything I have believed in just to keep the power that magic can bring. I didn't want that for you."

Emma dropped the rock on the ground, staring at it fiercely as though it might attack her. "I don't think you have a thing to worry about, Mama," she said sadly. "I'm not very good at this. I don't feel powerful at all."

"Maybe that's because you have good heart, Emma," her mother said. "The others…they were weak and fell into this darkness. It must be easy to do, but I see that you are stronger. So much stronger. You have fought battles that I would never have survived."

Emma scoffed at her mother's statement. "I'm not brave like you. You fought your stepmother when she tried to kill you. You won back your kingdom against all odds. You and Papa did what others only dream of doing. You're truly heroes."

Her mother ran a hand over the dew covered grass. "My sweet girl, you will learn that opportunities to be brave and sure will present themselves. They are subtle sometimes. And other times they are screaming from the mountaintops. But you will prove yourself too. You already have by keeping your good heart even after it was broken by Baelfire and the loss of your son. And you will again now."

"I don't want to disappoint you or Papa," Emma said, dropping her forehead to her mother's shoulder as she used to do as a child. "I want you to be proud of me."

"We are," her mother said, laying her cheek upon the top of the blonde's head. "Now, show me. Show me how you do this." She reached out her arms and wiggled her fingers in a mocking attempt to do something magical with the rock.

"I…"

"Emma, show me. Show me what you can do with this."

Emma nodded slowly, raising up to standing and pulling her mother up with her. Taking in a deep breath, the Princess extended her arms with her palms out in a defensive manner. She let her eyes fall shut and felt the blast come through from her wrists to her fingers. When she opened them again, her mother was smiling and the rock was a single pile of dust.

***AAA***

In any of its incarnations the Jolly Roger had not been a fishing vessel. However, one mention from Queen Elsa that she might enjoy fish for dinner and Keever was rushing about to set the traps and had some of the junior seamen checking them on an hourly basis. Even Killian had checked a few of the wire traps, though he did not do it where any of them could see.

The birds that Emma had sent with messages followed the ship from time to time, something that Smee still fretted over since they were land species and not known to water. However, Elsa and Killian took turns receiving their messages and stowing them away with very little said to the other. That was until dinner on the second evening. The Queen had sat herself at the table across from Killian and nibbled on a bit of the fish, complimenting Keever and telling Killian that she was happy with the meal.

"You don't know do you?" she asked before the plates were cleared away. "She hasn't told you."

His eyebrow quirked in question. "Your highness?"

"Emma," she clarified. "She hasn't told you why she has called for me and my help."

He bit back an answer that would have revealed his insecurity, a short remark to indicate that he wished Emma would confide more in him. "I trust that she has good reason."

Elsa held her chin a little higher. "I don't think it is my place to tell of her troubles, but I do have to question you. You have shown that you are quite dedicated to her, despite not having the full detail of her plans. I know of few men, pirates or not, who have that amount of preservation that they might give that control away. So what is it you are seeking from Emma?"

He ran the spoon through the soup that was left in his bowl and smiled into its murkiness. "Your Highness, I am not running a scheme if that is what you would think of me. Emma indicated that her need for you was quite great and that you were reluctant to travel with the lesser ships in your own armada. I found myself in the vicinity and offered my services. It is as simple as that."

"Simple or not," Elsa continued. "You have been exchanging letters with Emma and you are clearly doing this for her benefit. If I may ask of your intentions toward her?" He instantly felt sorry for the young man who had married Elsa's sister, as she was not a woman who trusted easily.

"Emma and I do correspond, which is no secret on this ship given the way she communicates with me. And as for my intentions, they are not of any sort that might worry you. She is a Princess and I know my station, Your Majesty. But just as you are reluctant to tell me of the reason for her need of you, I am reluctant to tell you of my feelings toward her."

"You are quite outspoken," Elsa chided. "I would expect no less of a pirate."

"I come by it naturally," he answered. "Now, as we are on course, milady, I can estimate our arrival in another day at least. Will that be sufficient?"

The Queen nodded, her face worried but thoughtful. "She trusts you," she said more to herself than him. "She must or else she would not insist that I take this journey with you. She understands me. Understands how my parents were lost at sea and unable to return to the family and kingdom they loved so much. Yet she insisted and said that you would bring me safe to her. I don't know why."

He was quiet with his own thoughts. That was until Smee interrupted them, offering the royal member of the table a clumsy bow. "I apologize for the interruption, Your Highness."

"Out with it, Mr. Smee," Killian implored.

"Another of the birds has arrived. A message for you, Captain." Killian thought about congratulating the man, as he usually did not seem to want to touch the messages or the birds. However, he didn't, stilling his hand before reaching for the message.

"Emma?" the Queen asked.

"Aye. I know of none other than who would communicate this way." He turned the message over in his hand. There was no real need for her to communicate with him, no practical one anyway. He was doing as she asked with no questions or qualms.

***AAA***

Elsa had dismissed him not long after that, telling him that she would see herself to her quarters. She reminded him of Emma in that way, a sweet and independent soul with no pretense. That did seem to be something the two had in common.

 _Dear Killian,_

 _I am sure that you wonder why I have called upon you to bring my dear friend to me at this time. It seems a tedious job for a pirate, despite your militaristic and service upbringing, but please know I do not mean it to be so. Your doing this is of great service to this kingdom, my friend, and to me._

 _You see, Killian, I am facing a great challenge in the coming days. While my friends and family are supporting me and encouraging me, I am in need of Elsa's guidance too. It is not right of me to explain this need in a letter, but I will offer you this._

 _A great darkness has threatened my family's kingdom for generations. It is usually quiet and without threat to us, but now it is rearing its head for another battle. Because of my magic, my family feels that I am a threat to this darkness. While I am not sure I am up to this charge, I am preparing myself for it. Your assistance in bringing my close friend to me will help in ways you cannot imagine._

 _So I wish to thank you, Killian. I wish to thank you for your service and for your trust in me though you may not understand. For they mean more than you could know._

 _Emma_

He realized in that moment that it was not his lack of confidence in her that was giving him worries. It was his own self-doubt. He was drawing closer to the Dark One, an enemy he had fought for centuries. And with the time growing closer, he wondered for a moment if there would be life for him afterward. What would it look like? What would he see? If he survived his own battle, as unlikely as that seemed, would he find another goal and life to live?

***AAA***

It was Regina's scream that reminded them all that the Dark One did not care about guarded doors or armies of knights to protect those within the palace. He showed himself to her as she walked from the nursery toward the room she was sharing with Robin, his words simple but haunting to remind her there was not true respite or refuge. He was gone by the time she found her voice, leaving no trace for the family and others that ran to her aid. Emma stood there in her night gown, hair halfway braided and her hands raised as if the lessons with water and rocks might be enough.

"He's never going to quit," Regina had sobbed into her husband's shoulder. "You all can play at this as much as you dare, but it's me. I'm the one that can stop him. Give me back my magic."

David had refused, sending Granny and Red back to their suites and telling Emma that she should think long and hard about this. Snow was a bit more understanding as she stood between her husband and the woman she had feared for all those years.

"Regina, we've discussed this…"

"No, you've discussed it with him. You've acted as though I cannot be trusted. God knows I have given you reason to believe that, but we are talking about my child. Imagine that this was Emma's child. Would you be so flippant and callous then? Would you risk your own grandson's wellbeing to be right about my magic?"

Robin attempted to soothe his wife, pulling her back into his embrace. "I'm sorry," he said to the royal couple as he tucked her head into his chest. "Terribly sorry. I haven't any solution either."

Snow found her stepmother in the gardens that next morning, tears dried and her face emotionless. "I am sorry that this is happening," the Queen told the woman. "It isn't fair."

"Few things in life are," Regina answered passively. "You've never seemed to notice though. You always achieved exactly what you wanted."

Snow was not about to argue that with the woman, though she wanted to point out how it was patently not true. Instead, she took a seat next to the former queen on the bench. "I had hoped you would realize that we are trying our best here. Emma's putting herself in danger because she wants to protect your son. We've opened ourselves up to this because we know what it is like to fear for your own child's life this way. We haven't asked you're the harder questions. We have just…"

"And you think that is enough?"

"I think it has to be," the Queen answered. "David and I have discussed what is the best course of action, but truthfully we want to know from you the reason behind all this. Why does he want your son? What is it about him?"

She half way expected her stepmother to run, to say forget the help and escape. But the woman sat there watching an early season butterfly dart among the green leaves of the plants. Just when Snow was about to give up, she spoke. "I never wanted to be alone," she said. "After losing mother, father, and everyone, I was rattling about that castle with no real purpose or meaning. I went to him…to Rumpelstiltskin…and asked him for help. I thought if I had a child of my own that I might have a chance to start anew. He brought me Henry. He brought me my son."

"I had wondered," Snow said in a lull.

"You had wondered how I had a child, wondered about the father, perhaps."

Snow's gentleness was not deterred by the accusation. "He's a lovely child, Regina, a very spirited and sweet child. I only meant to understand you and him. But if that is overstepping…"

"I don't know how he came to be," Regina admitted. "Rumpelstiltskin didn't offer that information and didn't give me reason to risk losing him to ask."

"And now he wants him back for some reason?"

"I don't pretend to know why or to understand that man. I can't possibly." She turned to look toward the castle. "I only know I can't lose him. I must do whatever I can do to protect him. I have given you no reason to trust me, but I need to not sit here and wait for a man who can destroy me and my happiness. I have to be able to fight back." The wrist cover that bound her magic felt tighter than usual. She had pushed up the sleeve of her dress so that Snow could not help but see it.

"Why hasn't he just taken him? Why wait?"

The former queen huffed at the question. "To hurt me? To make me suffer? I have no reason to believe it is for any other reason than taunting."

***AAA***

Emma slipped past the door of the library with Killian's note in her hand. She hated to read them in the company of others, preferring a private moment away from questions and stares that reminded her that she was not alone. She still had no words for what she felt when she stared and the page, no explanation for why each letter was held in a box in her room as though she did not wish for them to be removed. She only knew that they were a respite from her day, a moment when she felt away from the pressure and demands.

Her eyes skimmed over her name in his perfect hand, the greeting to her and the wishes for her wellbeing. He even offered comfort that Elsa would be to her soon.

 _While I have no knowledge of the ensuing battles you find yourself in, I am not without context when it comes to fighting the darkness, both within and external. If I might, I will tell you that no other is more capable of it than you, but I will still worry for your safety until that fight is concluded. It is with hope and admiration for you, Emma, that I ask to be of service to you in any way that I can. If you merely wish me to light a candle in the name of your safety, I shall, but I hope that you might require more of me._

 _Bringing the Queen to you is an easy enough task to undertake. When I deliver to your kingdom, I will hope to see you, if only to show my respect. If you should be in need of anything else, please just ask. I will hope to look upon your face within a few hours time._

 _Yours,_

 _Killian_

 _ **I know that this chapter is shorter than the others. I wanted to share some of the themes of this with you tonight as my heart is heavy and my words inadequate. My writing teacher and mentor for 15 years passed away today. She would be telling me now to write instead of mourn, but for a moment I want to remember her and her belief in me. When my world crumbled those years ago, I met her and she pulled me back up to standing. She pushed me when I needed it. She yelled at me when I needed that too. And while I will always remember the technical things she taught, it is her love and warmth that I will remember most. She taught me that success comes in different forms and that life is full of chances. I hope that I have made her proud and will continue to do so whether it is with something I do professionally, personally, or just for fun.**_


	14. Chapter 14

_**Let me start by thanking you for the notes and comments of condolences about my friend and mentor. Her passing was quite a shock to me and I know I will feel it in the days, weeks, and months to come. It's funny. I hear her voice so clearly in my head now as I write, telling me to do something different or to fix something she would hate. I hope that she knows just how much her guidance and friendship meant to me and others.**_

 _ **So on with the story. This chapter is a bit long, but the original chapter got lost with a computer glitch. I'll have another chapter up within a few days. Enjoy!**_

Killian found himself staring across the deck at the man, his sword raised almost lazily. The man had said very little, expressing only necessary details unless caught off guard. However, the more time the pirate had spent observing, the more he learned. For instance, the man had a practiced way about him that spoke to his training. He moved almost gracefully with measured steps and flourish.

"You're quite adept at that," Killian said in an almost taunting way. The light haired man surged forward slightly, drawing a defensive stance out of the pirate and then pulled backward. Most of the crew was watching, save those looking after the Queen Elsa below deck.

"It's something I've picked up," he challenged back. "I've been trained by the best."

Killian's response was a hummed affirmation before he drew his sword sharply, the blade almost grazing the man. "A compliment always seems to disarm an opponent. He either becomes flustered with the gravity of it or believes it to be so."

The man smirked, raising his eyebrows up. "Overconfidence is similarly as effective," he sing-songed. His own sword swiped at Killian and in an actual duel would have delivered a punishing puncture. His free hand splayed outward and the smirk turned more triumphant. "I never trust one who has a high opinion of his own talents."

Moving toward his right, Killian made a swiping motion, the blade whipping in the thick air. "Never mistake confidence for cockiness, mate."

The two continued their taunting spar, each one upping the other and earning a bit of admiration and respect along the way. It wasn't until one of the men spotted rougher seas ahead that Killian had to see to the ship's safety. He did make the concession that the man not be taken back below deck, but instead left there for the duration. When he came back to him, the light haired man said nothing and stared out at the water.

"Who taught you to fight as you do?" Killian asked, hoping that he could get an honest answer.

"Another man of the sea."

It was an imprecise answer and one that did not offer Killian new information. His own vague recollection of how he had learned such things did not do much to help. He could recall some lessons in the naval academy and yet more of it was learned from a life that had given him courage and scars. "How close are we to her?" he asked, trying a new tactic. "Your wife?"

"A day or two at most," the man said. "I've been in this situation before, you know. I've been captured and goaded into believing I would die at any moment. It's not something I particularly appreciate in my life. I rather hate it. I hate going to sleep at night wondering if this is the last."

Killian ignored that sentiment, instead focusing on his memories of how he had learned certain things. In terms of sailing, most of his knowledge came from his brother who had "You were planning to go back to them?"

"My family?" the man asked, confused at the pirate's question. "Of course. I love them. They are my life, but I don't expect a pirate like you to understand that. I did what I did on the seas for money to support them, to feed my children, and take care of my wife. You do it for sport and fun. There is nothing honorable in that, sir." It was by far the most the man had spoken, his eyes flashing hotly.

"I don't suppose I can," Killian said. He left him there, bewildered and less a prisoner than before.

***AAA***

 _Dear Emma,_

 _I certainly look forward to letting my eyes rest upon your face again. While I have no reason to believe I deserve such a moment, I hope that I shall be granted one after delivery of your friend to you. Though our time together was brief, I am not too proud to admit that I have missed our daily chats and walks. So to think that I may hear that sweet voice of yours again as you tell me little tidbits, I am excited at the possibility._

 _Your dear friend will arrive safely and ready to assist you with your quest. She has not revealed the true nature of it, as I think she fears I may use that information to gain favor from you somehow. That is not my true nature. I content to be of service to you as a courier or a soldier, yours to bid for your service._

Emma refolded the note before finishing it again, her distress palpable that she was going to disappoint this man. The weather was such that her mother had refused to allow Emma to go to meet Elsa's arrival, saying that a carriage would suffice for the trip and that Emma was best to keep to her magical studies. Unable to explain why she was wanting to meet the ship and its captain, Emma had walked away before she let her anguish come to the surface.

Emma stood at the window in the small hallway off of the kitchen, her arms wrapped around herself in the drafty morning air. She had imagined seeing Killian again a million different ways, his smiling face and his dimples to show his own pleasure with her presence. She wanted to smell the soft leather of his coat and feel his arm as she looped hers through his. It was far too risky to bring him to the palace with her parents feelings toward men like him, but Emma had hoped to at least see him in the port village where he would be delivering Elsa.

However, Mother Nature had other plans as rain pelted the window. A steady downpour made seeing even the nearby stables hard. With each plop of water against the glass, Emma felt her hopes dashing away.

"It's for your own good," her mother had said, skirts swishing in her retreat to the work she had set for herself.

Emma had barely contained her scowl. She was a grown woman now, far beyond the age wear tantrums and sulking were common. But the young princess's bottom lip protruded and her arms were crossed over her chest defiantly. She knew that she had no recourse for the Queen's directive, at least not one that did not reveal her desire to see Killian. Yet the disappointment created a painful ache and for a moment she imagined scampering away to see him despite the repercussions.

"It appears to not be lessening at all," Red announced as she entered the hallway. "Set in for the day probably."

Not able to make herself talk without some caustic remark, Emma bit her lip and nodded. She turned abruptly from the window and faced the woman, hoping that there was some other reason for her visit to that area than discussing the weather. However, Red's face remained an amused twist of emotions that did not validate the way the Princess felt at all. "I should go back to the library. I believe my mother and Regina found some more texts for me to read about him and the curse that made him the way he is."

The dark haired woman's head tilted to the side as she stared knowingly at her god-daughter. "You were hoping to go to meet Elsa, but mostly go to see him."

Emma didn't bother to ask who she was referring to in that statement. "I invited Elsa and asked her to help me, but I am not even going to meet her."

Red scoffed. "It's more than that. You want to see him, admit it." Again, the woman said no name, as none was truly needed, brushing her hair back over her shoulders, she frowned. "Your mother is worried about you. You are barely sleeping. You are practicing your magic nonstop. Even the Blue Fairy is telling us that you need rest."

"I'm perfectly well."

"No, you're not, but I can't say that it is all due to missing Killian Jones. It is in part, I suppose. But you are not just heartsick. You're worried and wanting to do the right thing. It might do you a world of good to see him. Now mind you, this isn't me giving you permission to do things. It is just a chance for you to see him and to hear his voice."

"That sounds like you believe me to be heartsick," the Princess chided. "My only malady at the moment is feeling quite useless. I'm a grown woman taking directive from her mother."

"Her mother is the Queen," Red said with a slight raise of her shoulders. "Everyone obeys the Queen, grown or not." Red's concern was evident as she pulled past the blonde woman and looked out the window. "I had hoped to try a new area today, see if I could find a trace of the Dark One. It's harder than finding most, I must admit. He doesn't usually travel by foot, using his magic to appear in new locations rather than exerting himself."

"Wonderful," Emma muttered. "Nothing about this is easy. We can't just make him appear. We can't find him. How are we to make this work when it looks like there is no way to summon him other than his own schedule and timetable?"

A gust of wind blew more of the water in waves against the window. "I have no doubts that your family will find a way. We should count ourselves lucky that we have not been made to fight him too soon."

"I suppose."

While not a complete vote of confidence, Red accepted that and continued to look through the wavering light at the damp surroundings. "Your mother said they were sending a carriage to retrieve the Queen Elsa. No sense in having her stay at an inn or something while we wait for the weather to clear. Those places are barely better suited than any danger from traveling in this sort of weather."

Emma's bright blue of her dress stood out starkly against the cold stone color of the corridor. "My mother must think I am quite weak to not be able to withstand the weather to go to greet my friend. I have survived worse."

"All of the strategy we have for fighting the Dark One lies in your ability to do magic. Your mother is only concerned that an illness might derail those abilities. You would be a lot less intimidating with a cough and a sneeze." The woman's eyes danced with kindness as she watched Emma dismiss the idea. "But I was thinking that perhaps a trip to the village would be good. The apothecary might have a remedy for the aches and pains that Granny has been feeling. And if the carriage is going…"

Emma tried to smile, grateful that at least Elsa and Killian would not be greeted only by a carriage with instructions for the Queen's travel. "You would make a fine companion for Elsa," she said.

"You and your mother are the most I can appreciate when it comes to royalty," Red said. "I was thinking of something a bit slyer." Emma's eyebrows raised in surprise. "You see if your mother were to think you were alone with your books and the only thing people saw was someone in my cloak entering the carriage, nobody should be any the wiser."

"Red, that would not be very honest of us."

"If you don't think…"

Emma's features clouded over. Could it be that simple? Could she really just don the velvety red cape that was Red's signature? Would nobody notice? The Princess considered this for a moment before smiling. "I think I can do one better than the cloak," she said. "Come on."

***AAA***

His men were doing the job of a crew double their size, something that did not go unnoticed by Killian. He was proud and grateful, though he couldn't rightly show it without more of the demeanor sliding away from the surface. So he smiled from time to time and called them names a little less often. Perhaps they would appreciate that.

Killian stepped below deck to find Elsa's door open. The Queen was seated with a book in her hand and balanced as though the bigger than normal waves were not creating havoc with her nerves already. He asked her if she needed anything, though he had assigned Smee and another to see to her needs and wants while aboard the Jolly Roger. She was holding her own though and spent most of her time below decks with a book in her hand or writing to Emma. She placed few demands on any of them, but the few times that she did she was coldly direct and unwavering.

"Your highness, with the wind at our aid we'll arrive in port within the next few hours," he told her from the doorway. "I shall send some men to carry your belongings once we are secure in the slip."

She silently nodded, more a reflex than anything. When he asked if she should need anything else, she looked up at him. "Any word from Emma today?"

The scruff on his face did not hide the tint of pink on his skin as he darted his eyes downward. "No, milady," he said. "I had hoped…"

"I have not heard from her either," she explained. "I assume her to be busy."

"Aye," he responded. He dared not to tell Elsa of the last two letters he had written to the Princess that were far more hopeful than he could usually muster. He was honestly a bit embarrassed by the rawness of his emotions that he couldn't quite place nor name. He spent his words telling her that he missed her and hoped to see her again. Perhaps that was why she had not written back, unable to tell him the same. He wasn't even sure that he could blame her, as her station was such that he was merely a passing fancy, a curiosity for her, and not someone that a princess could actually miss. He bowed his head to Elsa and took a step backward, stopping when the regal woman spoke.

"She will be there today if she can," she told him matter-of-factly. "I will take it by the way your breathing just changed and the clench of your jaw that it is her presence you were hoping for in all this."

"I didn't…"

"You didn't say it, but it is written on your face, Captain. And she has spoken quite highly of you in her letters to me. So I feel safe in saying that she wishes to see you too." Elsa's dismissal of him came moments later as he made his way to a storage hold to lose himself in his work.

Killian busied himself with the inspection of the storage hold. Like he had told Elsa, he was no better than his crew and not above doing the work of the lesser titled men. Making a list of the supplies they would need for further travel was relatively easy and mindless work. He made it through most of the reserves rather quickly, thinking to himself. He was so deep in his thoughts that he did not hear Smee enter the musty and dark hold.

The shorter man squealed in surprise, asking forgiveness for the display in his next breath. "I only meant to have a moment alone," he explained quickly. "I didn't realize you would be here."

"No offense made," Killian answered back, taking a step off the makeshift ladder he was using. "I was only doing a bit of work before someone was assigned."

"The crew is a bit sparse these days, Captain," the man said. "It does the men good to see you joining us in the efforts."

Killian sighed. "I don't think that my taking inventory will be enough to restore the faith of the crew in me, Mr. Smee. I know there is talk that I have gone soft."

Under the low light of the lantern that the men were using to see, the shorter man's face reddened. "There is talk, sir, but only talk. The real men of this ship know you. They know your heart sir and know that you are a true man. We trust you."

"No need for false sentiment, Mr. Smee. Now tell me what has you so worked up that you would need a moment alone. I've never known you to be so emotional as to hide away."

Killian busied himself with the inspection of the storage hold. Like he had told Elsa, he was no better than his crew and not above doing the work of the lesser titled men. Making a list of the supplies they would need for further travel was relatively easy and mindless work. He made it through most of the reserves rather quickly, thinking to himself. He was so deep in his thoughts that he did not hear Smee enter the musty and dark hold.

The shorter man squealed in surprise, asking forgiveness for the display in his next breath. "I only meant to have a moment alone," he explained quickly. "I didn't realize you would be here."

"No offense made," Killian answered back, taking a step off the makeshift ladder he was using. "I was only doing a bit of work before someone was assigned."

"The crew is a bit sparse these days, Captain," the man said. "It does the men good to see you joining us in the efforts."

Killian sighed. "I don't think that my taking inventory will be enough to restore the faith of the crew in me, Mr. Smee. I know there is talk that I have gone soft."

Under the low light of the lantern that the men were using to see, the shorter man's face reddened. "There is talk, sir, but only talk. The real men of this ship know you. They know your heart sir and know that you are a true man. We trust you."

"No need for false sentiment, Mr. Smee. Now tell me what has you so worked up that you would need a moment alone. I've never known you to be so emotional as to hide away."

The man sighed heavily and dug into one of his pockets to pull out the map that had been on Killian's desk. "It's the map to where the Dark One is," he explained as though Killian might not recognize the parchment. "The village we are headed to is near there. No more than two days by horse."

Killian's eyebrows raised skeptically as he peered over the paper at the upside down map. "You are quite sure, Smee?"

"Very sure. We'll be fools to ignore this."

"We are anything but fools, Mr. Smee."

***AAA***

The dining table of the large banquet hall was used primarily for state dinners and other such functions that seemed of little importance at the moment. Regina and Snow had taken to combing through some of the old maps of the kingdom, trying to find traces of where the Dark One would be hiding.

"Your husband," Regina said, not glancing up from a tattered map that had been hand drawn by a prospector years earlier, "seems to think of this as a military operation."

"My husband wants to surprise the Dark One instead of sitting here and waiting on his appearance. Taking the fight to the enemy is a tactic that has served him well in the past."

Regina knew that to be true, as Snow and David had defeated her under similar circumstances. "He's a powerful sorcerer and you're planning to use a blade or arrows to defeat him." She was essentially calling them amateurs at the process, but she held back. "You've got to think more strategically. We've got to use magic."

"Emma's working on that each day. If you find her so lacking, perhaps you should offer her some assistance." Regina's answer was caught in the air as the Queen greeted her old friend, hugging her tightly. "I had wondered where you got off to today," she smiled.

"I've been about," the dark haired woman said with ease, casting a furtive glance to Regina and then toward the doorway where she had entered. "I was coming to see about catching a ride with the carriage on its way to retrieve El…the Queen Elsa. I had hoped to catch a ride upon it."

"You needn't do that," Snow told her fondly. "I've arranged for the transportation. Elsa's the independent sort. She'll be content to make her way under their auspices rather than us making a huge fuss over her. And it has been so long since you have been here. I've missed having my dear friend nearby."

The werewolf took a moment to cast an unsure glance over her shoulder at the blonde princess waiting in the shadows and currently unseen by the Queen. "It's just that I cannot do much in the way of tracking or hunting down the Dark One with this weather. I'd like to feel useful and would think that picking up a few things for Granny."

Snow's head jerked upward from the miscellaneous items she had been inventorying on the table. "Is she not well? I know she's been a bit tired, but is there something else? Oh my, I've been so distracted. I didn't even realize."

The other woman tittered nervously. "She's fine. It's just that she likes to have that special tea when her arm gets to bothering her. She'd never ask for it, but it does soothe her."

The Queen frowned. "I could ask the driver to retrieve it, but I know you. You want to do something. You're never content to sit and rest. You're so much like her, Red. I see it more every year that passes. Very well. I'll inform the guards and driver that you shall ride with them today."

From the shadows, the blonde woman smiled as Snow darted from the room to see to the arrangements. Gathering her skirts, the darker haired woman was retreating when she heard Regina's voice.

"Well played, Emma," she said, her voice fully accusing. "Your own mother didn't recognize you."

***AAA***

Killian thanked the server who brought his ale, nodding appreciatively and trying not to judge Elsa's sour expression. "I suppose this is not your usual fare, your highness," he said with a restrained smirk. "I'm afraid there are very few establishments in this village and none that would be suitable for you."

"Is that what you truly think?" she asked, a defined arch to her eyebrow raising. "Royals aren't so pampered and removed that we aren't privy to the happenings of a tavern or harder life. I'm just not a fan of this particular ale. It tastes a bit off to me."

He suppressed chuckle at her unhidden disgust of the strong drink. "Aye, that it does."

"You don't have a good opinion of those of us of royal lineage do you?" she asked, her head tilted as if that might help her understand better. "I know that Emma does not seem to receive the barely contained disdain you feel for us, but overall?"

Killian had just eaten a bit of the stew that the tavern owner claimed was fresh so it gave him a moment to chew and think. Perhaps it was the fact that Emma had not seemed all that high born to him at first, but he thought of her as a woman first and a princess second. That would probably come back to haunt him, he thought bitterly. Others like Elsa carried themselves as if waiting for people to bow down both literally and to their every command. He couldn't very well say that to her. "I don't think it is as simple as that, milady. I rule my ship as some kings rule their kingdoms. I am the authority and the last word on all decisions, as if she were her own kingdom."

Considering this, Elsa's flawless features contorted in confusion. "But shouldn't that make you feel a kinship to us. Shouldn't you realize the enormous responsibility we feel and that ongoing challenge to balance our own desires with the betterment of the kingdom?"

"Aye," he said, taking another swig from the mug. "But there is a difference, your highness. You and other royals were born into your responsibility and privilege. You rule not because you were deemed to fairest or most qualified, but because the blood that runs though you is believed to somehow be better than anyone else's. You fight to keep your kingdoms, to not allow another to take over. A man like me must fight for everything I have. My brother and I fought for every scrap of food we had and every opportunity we earned."

"You would rather a utopian society where there are no rulers and all are equal?"

"No, I'm not that naïve to think that would work. I merely am of the belief that respect and loyalty are earned and not freely given because of a crown upon the head."

Breaking off a piece of the hardest bread she'd ever had, Elsa dipped it in the broth of the stew and swirled it about for a moment. "Emma has that same blood, that same struggle for balance, and someday will rule this kingdom. I know that you have seen past her lineage or else your scary pirate demeanor wouldn't crack at the mere mention of her name. You have looked to the door each time someone walks into this place in the hopes that it will be her entering this establishment."

His hand dropped the crude spoon into the bowl and raised up to the back of his neck. "You seem to be enjoying the observation of me. I am curious about Emma's well-being. She proved herself to me to be a hard worker and far above the rules of her station with the way she assisted those family friends. What I have felt for her is sincere admiration."

"Is that all?" Elsa asked, her lips thinning in her study of him.

"I am failing to see what it is you are searching for, your highness. Emma earned my admiration and I am doing her a favor to deliver you to this village. I'm quite certain that you won't find anything more nefarious in my intentions."

Elsa laughed lightly. "I don't think it is my place to discuss your intentions toward Emma. I am only satisfying my own curiosity."

He tipped his head toward her playfully. "I'm so glad to be of amusement to you," he said.

"I have a sister," Elsa said, her voice steady and sure. "A younger sister who is quite full of life and as a child full of mischief. She's the brave one in the family, fearless and headstrong. She speaks before she thinks and is always saying something that will embarrass me. When we were children and played with Emma, I was always struck that Emma could be such good friends with the two of us. We are quite different and yet Emma could see the best in each of us. A very remarkable trait."

He did not meet Elsa's eyes, knowing that the Queen was not done with her prying, despite the story she was spinning.

"You've met her recently and seen the quieter and more guarded version of her, but Emma used to be so light and full of life. She wanted to be the perfect combination of her parents with her mother's stubborn strength and her father's selfless bravery. We have spoken of that often, spoken of how we would both someday rule kingdoms that others would envy."

"From the stories I hear of your kingdom, you are well on your way," Killian offered. "And I have no doubt that when the time comes, Emma will do so as well."

Elsa did not acknowledge the compliment except with a sad smile. "It's a funny thing," she said. "When you're born as the heir to the throne people begin to talk about your reign from the moment you arrive. You're taught things. You're groomed for it. Emma and I have been sitting at our parents' sides in court for as long as we could sit still. Our birthdays are large celebrations where town people we don't even know give us gifts like chickens or hand sewn quilts that we later give to the poor. There are debates about who we should marry. There are contracts and negotiations about every aspect of our lives."

"Sounds appalling," Killian answered, not sure why the Queen was complaining to him when they had already established his condescension.

"But what nobody tells you as an heir is that you are essentially living in a purgatory limbo waiting for the day when the crown is yours. Your life is not your own because you are waiting for the coronation that will give you a chance to break free of the preparation, the ceaseless preparations that do not seem to matter a bit. And what they don't tell you is that you are waiting for your parents to die."

"That's a dark view of your role, milady," Killian answered. "Is that Emma's view too?"

"In some ways it is," she said. "Emma wants what we all want – what all people want – to live a life that is of her own choosing and making. She wants her decisions to be about her and not about citizens she doesn't know or parents who have already had their chance at a different life. She has burdens and responsibilities that you will never know or understand. So it isn't my amusement that I'm trying to find in my observation of you. I'm only trying to understand and satisfy my curiosity that you are not going to hurt her."

"She has far too many people watching my every move to allow that to happen," he said with a short almost soundless laugh. "I enjoy her company, your highness. She is smart and funny, a charming woman who has made me smile more than I have for any good reason in a long time. I have no reason to hurt her, nor any reason wish her harmed."

***AAA***

Red had to admit that pretending to be a princess, even one hidden away with stacks of books, was not as easy as she had imagined. When David had come to check on her, she had almost bowed out of courtesy. Then she almost referred to him by his name rather than as father.

"She didn't even tell you how to change back?" Regina queried from her own seat in the upper library.

"I don't have magic so it would have done no good. Besides we need them to believe that Emma is here working away and not off in that carriage." Red's own education had been sparse in a parochial school long enough to read and write basic words. She had read more over the years to increase her knowledge, but unlike the royal family she had not been schooled in foreign languages and diplomacy. The book before her was in some language she did not even know. She pushed it away with a frustrated sight before turning her attention to the former queen. "How did you know that she had performed a spell for us to switch places?"

Regina selected another book from the shelf, her long fingers tracing over the cover before she opened it. "I didn't at first. Truthfully I thought the idea of a glamor spell might be too much for Emma. She's still a bit green when it comes to those types of things."

"But you realized it how?"

"Your eyes," the woman explained. "You see, the last part of a glamour spell is the eyes. They are the hardest to change, as they are how you see the world. She did a good job, but she forgot to change the eyes. When she stood there speaking to her mother as you, I saw her green eyes looking back. It became obvious then."

Lacking an obvious answer to the woman's words, Red nodded. "Why didn't you try and stop her? You could have told Snow and that would have…"

"Snow and David are good people. They always have been. If you give them a choice, they will make the right one every time. Emma takes after them. So whatever reason she had for taking the carriage to the village must have been a good one."

"It is, I think," Red answered dully. "I hope."

***AAA***

Rain was still falling as the royal carriage pulled through the muck along the roads into the fishing village. Its wheels struggled against the thickness of it with the horses working hard to pull the passengers in their journey. Having returned herself into her natural form of a blonde princess, Emma watched through the small window as the countryside gave way to the sparse village.

She had been there years before, her father having given a speech about the anniversary of the founding of the village. The day had been hot, sun beating down on them as her father spoke of community and pride in droning tones that had bored her. She and her mother had sat on a hastily built platform and listened after watching a rather boring display of jousting and sword play among the villagers. It was the last of the events she had attended before going into hiding over her pregnancy, but she still remembered the sinking feeling that people could see her condition beyond the layers of her dress.

The colors of the town were muted under the cloudy sky and a low hanging misty fog obscured much of it, but the Princess could see the ships in the harbor. Mostly fishing and merchant vessels, they were small and sturdy structures. Amongst them with mast high was the Jolly Roger. Emma almost wept as she saw the familiar sight, her eyes keening to see if she could make out the sight of the captain anywhere. He surely wouldn't have left Elsa to her own devices, she told herself.

"We are nearly there, milady," the driver called to her needlessly. He'd been shocked when they stopped to readjust some mechanism on the carriage and found her sitting there rather than Red. She had offered no explanation of the ruse or her display of magic, simply telling him that she was eager to reach port and her friend.

Trying not to lean out of the window into the damp air, Emma restrained herself. She was certainly nervous, any fool could see that, but she felt something else inside of her. There was a sense of dread at knowing that whatever time she got with Killian would be limited. What else could it be but a fleeting moment? She supposed it was just as well that way.

***AAA***

The hem of her skirt was splattered with mud and her hair was more tightly curled in the dampness as she dodged around two men carrying a pig from the market. Elsa and Killian had both mentioned the tavern where she was to collect the young queen, but Emma was having a hard time making out the signage with the thick fog that had rolled in and added more obscurity to the landscape. Asking two people and then damning herself for being quite so excitable, she saw it and dashed toward the entrance.

Though she might have had designs on greeting Killian in a more formal or even affectionate fashion, she had to settle for waving a hand wildly and managing to topple a waitress's supply of mead onto the front of her mud stained dress instead. Of course Killian would have looked with his blue eyes at that exact moment.

Thankfully it was within Elsa's powers to ignore the clumsy display and smile at her friend as she slumped her way toward them. "I would hug you, but I have no need to smell of a brewery now," the Queen declared, leaning forward to kiss Emma's reddening cheek. "I thought Anna was the clumsy one, but you my dear…"

"I suppose I was just anxious to see you," Emma said, frowning that Killian had not even said a word as he went to ask the tavern owner for a rag or something to help mop up the mess. "You are so dear to come."

"I didn't have much choice once you sent a pirate to collect me and bring me to you," Elsa retorted, her expression dark as she accused her friend. Then she laughed with her hand fluttering over her mouth. "It's so good to see you."

"And you," Emma said genuninely. "And I am sorry about sending Killian, but I knew you wanted a safe and reliable way to get here."

"No, no, it's fine." Elsa said, smoothing her hand over her light blue and purple dress. "He's been a gentleman the whole time and quite charming. I can see why you like him."

Emma's mouth opened to a little o shape. "I don't…"

"Oh don't worry so much, Emma," Elsa said squaring off her shoulders. "He's quite taken with you and you alone. I think we should ask him to accompany us back to your castle. It isn't safe for us to be alone all that way, now is it?"

"You are acting decidedly like Anna," Emma frowned. "And we are perfectly safe. We have four guards, two drivers and a footman to protect us."

Elsa sighed, her head shaking slightly. "Don't be obtuse, Emma," she scolded. "I was merely trying to come up with a reason you would need to bring him along. I don't imagine that you are looking forward to saying hello and goodbye in the same breath."

She might have fought back against the accusation, explained that she couldn't possibly care for someone her parents would not approve of, especially after Baelfire. But Killian re-entered sheepishly handing her a cloth that was clean but old and well used. "It was all I could find," he said to her, his nose wrinkling. "I could go check the ship if you like."

"No need," Elsa said, placing a hand on her friend's shoulder. "We are nearly the same size. Emma can just borrow one of my dresses. Perhaps she should go and change on your ship though. This place appears quite crowded and I don't believe we procured a room." She pulled the cloth from his hand and placed it in Emma's. "My luggage is still aboard, isn't it?"

"Aye, I'll go check to see if perhaps we can get a room."

Elsa huffed. "We'd still need to get the dress and carrying it across the muddy road through the rain seems a waste. Emma's already drenched from both the weather and her display of grace. So I'll wait here and she can go and change."

Emma felt as though she were a spectator in her own life. As Killian and Elsa discussed the logistics of the situation, she trembled and finally felt the damp dress chilled her. A bright tide of color washed over her cheeks as she realized the state she was in and that she had yet to say a proper hello to Killian. He at last seemed to notice. "Love, you're shivering."

"That's what I've been saying," Elsa said, throwing her hands up. "Take her to the ship. She can very well pick out a dress to wear there."

Killian smiled at her, offering an arm and brushing aside her awkward comment about not wishing to soil his clothes as well. "Darling, I am a pirate. It is a rare day I don't smell of rum or ale."

"I've never noticed that about you," she said, flushing an even darker shade as he grabbed her arm and looped it through his own to lead her toward the ship. "You've always smelled rather good to me."


	15. Chapter 15

The once heavy rain was a fine mist when Emma and Killian left the tavern, but the damage had already been done with the water turning usually dusty roads to muddy pits. Despite the condition of her dress, Emma dodged the larger puddles for the sake of her shoes and let Killian lead her around others.

His gaze returned to her time and again, as if he could not quite stop the quick glances in her direction. Though he meant them as a way to memorize her before their next separation, she was clearly self-conscious over the attention and kept her eyes aloft.

Offering his arm to her, Killian breathed in sharply at the startling yet familiar sensation of her hand on his forearm. Even with the wind and rain having left her hair clinging to her high cheekbones, he couldn't help but see the beautiful curls that shone in the sunlight on one of their walks. Just the way she said his name seemed to affect him, which was not what he wanted to admit even to himself.

She pushed back on her damp hair with her free hand, blowing out a frustrated breath when it would not behave. "You don't realize how lovely you look, Emma, even drenched by the rain and the drinks."

In spite of herself, she chuckled. "I believe you may need spectacles," she said sternly. "I must be quite frightening in this state."

"There are few things about me as consistent as my blunt honesty," he said, then throwing his head back in a peal of laughter. Most probably would find that he was quite maddening. "I suppose I am to say that if I say something then it is the truth. It is my silence that is more telling of half-truths and lies. But if I tell you that you look lovely, Emma, and I am telling you that, then it is because you are quite possibly the most beautiful woman I know."

She flushed miserably. "You could have simply said yes," she argued.

"I apologize," he said in return. "I suppose I have a special affection for you in this state, as I met you while drenched by the rain."

There was something distinctly infectious about her smile at the memory. "You were quite a sight yourself," she teased. "The kohl around your eyes had smeared and stained your face so that I thought you must be a blacksmith or someone else who worked in fire and ash."

"We both seemed to have designs that the other was much more humble than our lives would indicate," Killian remarked in a dropped tone. "How much easier life might be if that was true?"

Emma's radiant joy crumpled as she considered that. "But we are not, neither of us," she said with a sadness in her voice's register. "But still I cannot help but find it endearing that you are such a sentimental man."

"You tease and wound me," he challenged back. "But I will let you get away with it for now."

He tried not to look too proud as he walked with her, enjoying the sensation as much he could. He also tried not to look at the royal carriage that stood stately on the street with its ornamentation and clearly marked decorations. It only served to remind him that he had only moments with her, stolen ones that nobody would approve of him taking. The tall form of one of the guards jumped into his peripheral view and loomed toward them.

"Milady, I will fetch something for you, if you need it," Walter, one of the guards who had been waiting by the carriage, said as she explained she would be heading toward the ship. "It might be…"

"It might not," Emma said in a tone that Killian had rarely heard her use. "I'm fine, Walter. Killian will protect me from whatever evil might lurk." She waved a dismissive hand at the nervous looking man. When he didn't move, she frowned. "Is there a problem?"

"Your highness," the lanky man said, pausing to clear his throat. "He's a pirate."

Killian did not meet the man's eyes, noticing instead that Emma's hand was protectively around his forearm and her stance was swaying toward him. Normally he might have raised the hook into view of snipped off some remark to send the man running, but Emma seemed all too capable. "I'm well aware," she said. "And I believe I heard that you were accused of quite heinous crimes yourself prior to your commission to the royal guard. Are we to believe those accusations make you less fit?"

"But milady…"

"Who better than a pirate to protect me on a ship?" Emma asked rhetorically. "If it bothers you so much, you may accompany and wait above deck as I change." She did not wait to see if he would follow, allowing Killian to lead her to the ship and letting him guide her into his cabin. He immediately apologized, having realized that she could consider that some sort of trick.

She thanked him with a gentle smile. "I didn't get a chance to say hello to you at the tavern," she said, folding the green gown that Elsa had packed over her arm. "I apologize for that and our reunion being ruined by my lack of grace."

His smile back was not quite as bright, but managed to warm her anyway. "My dear you still seem to have the grace of a swan about you when you move. I did not see your incident as your shortcoming, but that of the server girl who should not have been in your way."

The Princess giggled but tried to look stern. "Don't blame others for my shortcomings," she warned, wagging a finger at him. Crinkling her nose, she informed him of her intent to change and he stepped outside the door, pulling it almost completely shut as he did.

The lanterns that hung from the ceiling swung with the rocking motion of the ship, casting oddly shaped shards of light against the wooden planks of the corridor. Killian watched the light, following its patterns with his blue eyes.

"I'll just wait out here," he said somewhat awkwardly, the leather of his boots dragging a bit on the floor. He felt oddly nervous there in the closed space, but he could not quite place the reason. She was feet away from him, her scent in the air around him and delicate breaths she took still ringing in his ears. He had expected to be delighted in seeing her again, even excited, but this nervous feeling was something foreign. His tongue now felt too thick for his mouth and his hand seemed to find no purpose other than to shake and pull at his leather vest.

She was mumbling something about the dress, but he couldn't quite make out her words. Still just to hear her made his chest tighten uncomfortably. His shaking hand touched the door that separated them, careful not to push it open as it was cracked slightly to allow them to talk.

"I did not truly expect you given the weather," Killian announced suddenly. "You must really have wished to see your friend."

Her voice was muted as the pulled the fabric of the dress over her, but he could hear the words. Perhaps she had turned toward his direction. "I wished to see you," she said, lifting the last word to a higher pitch. "I knew I would see Elsa when she arrived, but I wanted…"

His smile was brief, the words of encouragement for her declaration caught in his throat. "I am happy to see you too," he offered weakly.

Their conversation was of the polite sort as they stood there on opposite sides of the door. She asked after his crew and the weather they had experienced sailing. He asked after Leo and expressed some surprise that Granny and Red had taken on the journey to be at her family's side. When she emerged to open the door, he felt very much younger than he had felt in a long time. She was standing there in front of him in a gown of deep green. The flecks of gold in her sea green eyes shone brightly as she combed through her tangled hair with her fingers. Damp tendrils framed her face.

"I want to thank you for bringing Elsa," she said, dipping her head out of his eye line for a moment. "You can't know how much that means to me."

"I assured you that I would do anything within my power to help you. I meant it."

She weighed that in her head. "I trust that you do," she remarked. "I don't necessarily trust many people, but I do trust you, Killian."

He felt the air leave the room as she said that, the echo of her sincerity beating against him and taunting him. There was a part of him that wanted to tell her not to be so naïve. Never trust a pirate, he said to himself. "That's quite an honor, Emma," he said instead. "Quite a responsibility that I will try to live up to and not squander." She appeared to him to be embarrassed at her confession. "But if I may, Emma, what has caused you to be so distrustful of others? Who hurt you, love?" He knew that she had an extraordinary gift of conversation, but for whatever reason she was remaining quiet on the subject.

Sadness passed over her features and the ship seemed to sense the change, moaning in time with the mood as the waves hit the hull. "I'm afraid we are so short on time that I would rather discuss happier things," she said, swallowing.

"I would be happy to discuss any topic or subject with you." His shoulder brushed the door jam, leaning against the solidness of the wood. "You are right. Our time is limited."

She turned from him to gather the soiled dress she had been wearing. "The last time I was here," she mused, evidently leaving behind the thoughts she had over trust and the past. "The last time I was here we…"

"Aye, we did," he said when she didn't finish her thought. "I suppose it would be rather forward if I was to ask if you regret that. For I know you aren't so used to men like myself. I would imagine that princes and royalty are much better behaved." If someone were to have overheard them, they would have believed him to be teasing. And had she been facing him, she might have seen the way his eyes followed her as she moved slowly.

"Don't," she said with a slight hitch in her voice. "I regret nothing of the kind. You weren't my first kiss, you know?"

His smile bordered on laughter. "Emma, I am not a man to critique such things with a woman, especially one such as yourself. But I never accused you of inexperience." He chuckled to himself as she wavered between relief and offense, settling on a sigh of resignation.

"Most men would prefer to be a woman's first, while a woman is most interested in being a man's last," Emma retorted. "At least that is what my mother always said."

"I'm not about to argue with the wisdom of a mother, least of a mother who is a queen," he said, his index finger tracing over the tip of his ear. "But if your guard were to hear this conversation, I doubt he would remain stalwart and calm."

She folded the other dress over twice and placed it in the crook of her right arm. Taking on a look of anticipation, she patted the fabric. "So tell me of you," she said, pretending that the previous conversation had not happened. "Tell me of your plans. You must be eager to return to your life at sea."

His weight shifted with the groan of the ship. "No doubt that I will eventually go back to it," he said vaguely. "I have plans inland first though. It appears that it was quite fortuitous that your duties for me brought me to these shores. In addition to seeing you, I am closer to a long time goal that I have been aiming toward the majority of my life."

Her eyes lit with the news that he might not be leaving so quickly. "You must be very pleased to be within reach of your goal, Killian," she said. "Where is it you are headed toward? I know this land quite will since it is part of my parents' kingdom."

"It is a bit out of the way, but I understand it to be within a day or two of here," he said, reaching out to remove the dress from her arms so that she would not find her borrowed one to be ruined. "It is on the edge of the Dark Forest. Perhaps we will see each other on the road."

Emma could hear Walter's nervous throat clearing and pacing up above that indicated his impatience. Still she stood there with quiet dignity. "I owe you for your carrying Elsa here to me," she said, flicking her hand in his direction when he moved his lips to speak. "You could have been doing more to work toward your goal rather than playing courier. So I will offer you this. My parents' palace is less than a day's walk from the Dark Forest through a short cut I know. If you should like, you could ride with us in that direction." He had no way of knowing how relieved she felt to deliver that invitation without trickery or lies.

"You needn't…"

She stood her ground firmly, telling him that it was no bother. "Besides, you will make Elsa and I feel so much more secure than the guards. We should like your company."

***AAA***

Red was not sure if Regina was accurate in her translation of the text, but she pretended to have an interest in the elfish writings as David and Robin both studies some of the other texts. She was acutely aware of the sharpness of the stays of Emma's dress and the fact that the poor girl could probably not even draw a deep breath. While the Princess was clearly young and beautiful, Emma was lacking in comfort, the dark haired woman decided.

Johana and Granny interrupted the studying when they brought the three rambunctious boys into the room. Cheeks red on one side from their naps, Roland ran to his father and Henry to his mother with sturdy legs chugging along. Red watched the young boy climb into Regina's lap, laying his head against her shoulder. She knew that Emma had interacted a few times with the boy so to play along as the Princess, Red waved to him and said hello.

The young boy drew back and wailed in abject terror at the sight of her. Burying his face half in the velvety texture of Regina's gown and under his own small hands, the boy whimpered as the former Queen soothed him. "It's alright, Henry," she said. "You know Emma. She's not going to hurt you." Regina's tone was almost accusatory toward Red, emphasizing Emma's name.

The boy's wails grew louder and soon Roland joined in with him in a show of young solidarity. Leo looked on in disbelief as he saw the woman he assumed to be his sister fidget. "I'm so sorry, Regina," the blonde woman said. "I didn't mean to frighten him."

"He's fine," Robin chimed in, lifting Roland and balancing him on one side as he came up behind Regina. "Just a bit startled is all."

Red backed away, aware that David was becoming increasingly worried about his daughter. She waved them all off. "I think I'll have a nap of my own," she said. "I feel very tired."

Pausing outside the door, she heard Regina make excuses for her, saying that Emma was tired and overwrought with pressure. But most heartbreaking was the sound of Henry still crying.

***AAA***

Elsa leaned her blonde head against the corner of the carriage, her eyes falling shut. The slight jostle of the carriage was lulling her to sleep as Emma and Killian both spoke. While they weren't leaving her out of the conversation, she had told them that she was tired and for them to not worry about keeping quiet for her sake.

"With my sister I have learned to sleep with my eyes till open," she teased, then blushed upon realizing the criticism of her sister. She usually had no tolerance for such a thing from anyone, including herself.

Killian still managed to drop his usually louder voice to a lower volume. "Your parents won't be pleased that you brought me to their home, Emma," he acknowledged. "You have a plan or are we to pretend I am not who I am."

"I will speak to them," she said, hoping she sounded a bit more confident than she felt. "You already know Red and Granny. They will protect you."

Laughter reverberated off the interior of the carriage. Killian's hand rested on his knee, his fingers drumming a bit out of nervous energy. He practically jumped as Emma reached a hand out toward his.

"This must be quite an important quest for you, Killian," she said. Pushing the now dry hair out of her face with her free hand. Her fingers of the hand on his, ran along his and found the spot between his so they were laced together. He didn't pull away and neither did she, both of them studying the formation.

"I shouldn't worry you with it, love," he nearly whispered. "You seem to have your own demons to deal with."

Her green eyes seemed even greener with the dress she was wearing, but he was aware that at times they could seem almost as blue as his own. "Granny always says that in removing the demons from our lives we must be careful not to be overzealous and remove the angels as well. There must always be a balance between the light and dark."

"It appears you have some wise women in your life, love," he uttered. "So tell me, what has you so frightened that you seem to be preparing for war. I don't think you would call for your friend without provocation."

Emma's bottom lip slipped between her teeth as she looked up at him with clearly worried eyes. Squeezing her hand to his, she sighed. "I thought we were going to talk about your daring journey first."

"Very well," he said with a nod. "I suppose I owe you that much since you have said you do trust me. I am going after the Dark One."

Emma gasped audibly, her free hand jerking with the mention. "You plan to take him on alone? He's more powerful than…He's so close to the palace? What quarrel do you have with him?"

"Aye," Killian said, concern etched on his face as he watched the color drain from hers. "Love, I didn't mean to frighten you. My quarrel with him is a long one and far more intricate of a conversation than we should have in this carriage. Suffice it to say that I have seen his merciless behavior first hand, including his treatment of his own wife." He frowned as he watched her fidget. "I will spare you the details."

She worried her lip again. "Killian," she began, her throat constricting. "Killian, the danger in this kingdom comes from the Dark One. He is threatening and planning to kidnap a child. We know it must be for some nefarious reason that could bring suffering upon the people here. So I have been chosen, because of my magic, to lure him out and to start the battle that will end the darkness or at least harness it." She looked determined, but quite young as the words settled on them both. "It is probably a fool's mission and an undertaking I should bolt from."

"I could hardly call it that," Killian answered, sounding hoarse. "Your reasons are your own, though I suspect you have been commissioned for the task."

"My parents and others. I won't be alone in it." She breathed in as deep as her dress would allow her to do. "Might I have your backing too?"

He paused, his gaze drifting to the hook at his side. "The last time I tangled with this man I lost my hand. You see, love, he came for his own vengeance, as I had helped his wife escape from his reach. While my intentions toward her were not that amorous in the beginning, I fell in love with her. We were quite happy together and had plans…" He broke off, his eyes blinking rapidly for a moment. "When he came to us in his fit of magical and maniacal rage, he killed her though she offered him everything to leave us be. And when he was done he took my hand." Killian scrutinized their still entwined hands, realizing that she had not pulled away from him as he would have suspected she would. "It is not a happy tale, love, especially not for you."

"I'm far tougher than I appear," she said with a quivering smile. "But I don't understand something. The Dark One hasn't been married in many, many…"

"We have much to talk about, darling," Killian said. "I suppose it is time that we compare notes."

 ** _Thoughts?_**


	16. Chapter 16

**_I apologize for the delay in this. It has been hard to balance my writing, work, my home life, and some other things that have come up recently. I hope this being a longer chapter makes up for it. This one is a bit dialogue heavy, but the action heats up next chapter. Thanks again for reading, commenting, and the like._**

The rain may have turned to a soft drizzle and then to just low hanging clouds, but the road back toward the palace of Mist Haven was still treacherous. The horses struggled to pull the weight of the gilded carriage through the thick mud that mired the way. Twice already the driver had issued apologies to the three passengers for the delay as the horses rested.

"It does seem to be slow going," Elsa mused, adjusting the lap blanket over her own lap and Emma's. "Do you think we'll make it before nightfall?"

Emma peered out the window, her expression thoughtful and worried. "I was thinking that perhaps there was a spell or something I could do to conjure up some dryer weather. Do you have any…" She stopped, realizing she had not mentioned to Killian that Elsa also had powers of magic. It was Elsa's tale to tell, not hers. She knew from her own experience that she would not want anyone to share that information with just anyone.

"I could turn this mud and muck into ice, but I don't think that would be much better," Elsa commented dryly. Her lips twitched with an emerging smile. "We could skate to your home?"

Emma giggled, trying to ignore the curious stare of Killian who was clearly trying to understand the exchange. "I seem to remember us doing that one day and getting in all kinds of trouble with my parents."

"The ball room is no place for ice skating, ladies," Elsa boomed in a voice meant to sound like Emma's father. "I would suggest you take your shenanigans outside." The usually cool demeanor of the queen broke apart as she too laughed uproariously, holding a gloved hand over her mouth. "I haven't thought about that day in years."

"We did have fun when we were children," Emma said, her shoulder brushing her friend's. "Anna always trying to catch up with us."

"We spent half of our time hiding from her. You never did understand how draining it could be to have a little sister. She always wanted to do everything I did. And the fact that we were hiding my abilities to…"

"She knows now and she loves you all the more for it," Emma consoled. "And you were probably right. Anna cannot keep a secret. She becomes so excited about everything. If she had seen some of the things we did as children, she would have told everyone just with her exuberance."

Elsa's laugh wasn't as strong or high-spirited as before, her expression almost regretful. Her eyes flashed with that sentiment as she looked toward Killian. "Emma's not the only one with magic, Captain. That's why I'm here. I'm to help her or at least serve as a bit of diversion toward the enemy."

Feeling proud of her friend for her admission, Emma held her head a bit higher. "Between the two of us we should be able to come up with something to thwart his magical threat. And I believe Killian will be able to combat him physically. We all have a near army by our side to support the endeavor."

"Believing in oneself is admirable," the Queen said with a cautious smile, "but don't forget who we are going up against. Anyway, from your parents' letter I thought that the plan was simply to intimidate him. He's the one that told them the prophecy that you would snuff out the darkness. He wouldn't have forgotten that."

Killian's eyebrow quirked questioningly and Emma tried to smile back at him reassuringly. It was a weak result, but she turned her attention back to Elsa. "That is the plan, but we have to be ready if it doesn't work. We have to know that he may be irrational enough to wish to go head to head. I have to be prepared." She looked to the window with marked sadness. "One would think that with two of us with magic, we could solve a simple problem like mud and rain."

"Perhaps the solution is not magical," Killian suggested, his hand resting upon his leather clad knee. "How far are we from the palace? A trek by foot might be more efficient?"

While Emma seemed to consider this, Elsa was more adamantly against such an idea. Wrapping the lap blanket tighter around her thighs, she patted her friend's arm. "You are better suited to that. I think I will stay and hope for fairer weather. You could send some help for me later?"

***AAA***

Granny slammed the bottle on the counter and frowned deeply at the woman who Snow had introduced her to as the head cook. The woman was sloppy and careless, leaving behind more yield on the fish that she was cooking for dinner than was necessary. Waste was not something the older woman could abide by, especially when it came to food. The Widow Lucas could not stand for such a thing.

Then there was the fact she had not seen her granddaughter since that morning. Red had disappeared, according to Snow, to head into town for a few things and to retrieve the queen of some other land. While Granny was sure that Red was becoming a bit stir crazy, Emma had been the one aching to journey away. Still she had watched her willful granddaughter scurry away toward the carriage as if it was her most important responsibility.

Granny had known Snow since she was a young woman still finding her way. Much like Emma, Snow had come to the Lucas cabin with wide eyes and steely determination. Snow's determination had been a matter of survival, but Emma had done so many things out of love and less out of necessity.

"I'm capable of cooking without you looking over my shoulder," the woman practically growled at the widow. "I've been doing it for years."

"Not as long as I have," Granny growled back. Snow would have a fit knowing that Granny was trying to take over the kitchen. She, along with most, was trying to convince the older woman that now was the time to sit back and relax. But she wasn't about to do that. Those who had lived to an old age in her family – far fewer a number than it should have been thanks to the ogre war and wolf attacks – were known to have died not long after they gave into the idea that they had earned their rest.

So it was no surprise to Granny when an infuriated Snow appeared in the doorway with her hand on her hip as the older woman kneaded the dough as though she was beating a demon out of it. Offering no apologies, Granny continued the work as both the Queen and the head cook seemed to watch her. There was a huff from the cook's too small mouth, her face contorting in displeasure, but she was quickly dismissed by the Queen's regal wave to leave them be.

"You shouldn't have to do this," Snow said, sitting on one of the lopsided stools. Even in that state, she had that same royal air that her mother possessed. Maybe it was the way she held her back just so or the jaunty tip of her chin. But most felt the need to bow before her.

"It helps me think," the woman said. "And it's not like I'm much use in this weather. I couldn't track a sparrow in the garden in this rain."

Snow nodded thoughtfully. "You know that you are more important to me than just a tracker. You and Red both. You've been…you've been my family. I don't want you to think I'm just using you for your skills."

Granny didn't respond, her white head moving in time with her hands as she plopped the pale dough back on the wooden table, a cloud of flour rising up around her hands. She punched it twice more before tossing it again.

"Granny, please talk to me. You're not well. I can see that."

"I'm well enough," the older woman said. "You have much more to worry about than my health. You have a grown daughter who is trying to prove to you that she is worthy of this kingdom and your love. She's willing to go up against the Dark One to prove it." She dropped the dough more one time. "But you know that like that dough, if you work love too much then it is tougher and harder. It has to come naturally."

"Granny, David and I love Emma with all our hearts. We adore her."

"You do," Granny said with a nod of her head. "But she doesn't feel worthy of it. She doesn't feel she deserves it."

"Because of what happened with Baelfire?" Snow said reluctantly. She rarely spoke the man's name, knowing that her daughter had lost herself to him. There were no details, no explanations other than his disappearance had been unexplained. Still, Snow had not gone to her daughter and demanded anything. Maybe it was wrong, she thought to herself. Maybe she should have talked to her daughter about it, found out what it was that made her daughter want to forget that she was a princess and run off with the son of the Dark One. But she hadn't. She had been so glad to see her daughter back at home that she had ignored those feelings and just accepted.

"Partially," the woman said, with her head cocked to one side. "She…this is her battle to fight, but she knows that she was wrong to hide her feelings. She loved that boy, but she was scared to tell you or that husband of yours of it. Maybe I can understand that. God knows Red snuck around enough and hid her love of Peter from me, but…"

"I wasn't paying attention, was I?"

"I'm not trying to place blame," Granny dismissed easily. "I am merely saying that I understand the girl's fear of telling you. Perhaps you do too, if you truly think on it. But all of that is in the past. She is a strong and beautiful woman. But don't let that façade fool you. She's still very much your daughter. And she still relies upon you for your approval. Don't forget that."

***AAA***

"Do you think this is wise?" he asked. "The Queen should not be left cooped up there."

"One of the stables for the palace is quite close now," Emma informed him. "I simply thought we might send a squad to rescue her and the guards. She's strong and independent, but I would hate myself if something were to happen to her."

"I see your point," he said, ducking to avoid a particularly heavy branch on the path. "You do seem quite a bit more adept at leaving your guards behind."

"I have more practice at it," Emma admitted with a deceptively girlish giggle. She was trying hard to ignore the way he would glance at her through the dark lashes that framed his blue eyes. Though it was hardly a lecherous stare, he watched her with keen interest that made her both self-conscious and a bit proud at the same time.

He meant to ask her about her comment of sneaking out, wanted to picture the young girl with dolls and playthings. She was undoubtedly adorable in her mother's slippers and her father's arms trying to dance as she had spied them doing. While there was a wisdom and guardedness in her eyes now, he was sure that somewhere under all that was softness of a little girl with big blonde curls who listened to her mother's reading upon an embroidered pillow. Emma's stories never fail to give him that image as she told of sneaking out under the cover of darkness to ride her new pony, though her father had told her not to do so.

Killian's one hand lifted the low hanging branch so that Emma might pass underneath it without harm. She was far sturdier than he might have given her credit for, the long strides of her walk and the firmness she would use in gripping his arm as they made their way through the thicket. She had a determination that intrigued him, made him wonder, and enticed him. While she was certainly delicate in her own way, she had built herself up around that fragility and created a woman that Killian was quite sure he'd never seen the equal of in all his years.

"Did you enjoy your time in the Navy?" she asked, breaking the silence with a breathless question. When he didn't answer right away, she straightened her stance to watch him hawkishly. "I only ask because you rarely mention it."

"I'm not much for taking orders of another," he answered, his eyes flashing with unnamed emotion. "My brother was a great captain and gave me many chances."

"So it was hard to follow his orders?" Emma asked, a bit confused by his answer. How could one hate taking orders but show respect for his captain? Her feet slid a bit on the damp foliage, but he easily righted her. His forearm bushed lightly against the fabric of her chest and she hoped he was unable to feel her heartbeat increasing at his nearness.

"No, love, it is easy to fall into line and follow orders when you are not all that aware of yourself. My identity, my life, was tied up in being that lieutenant for my brother. I was, as many said, an insufferable man with no true skills or direction to lead. I merely repeated what I had heard and hoped that it sounded strong and true out of my own mouth."

He paused to inspect a dip in the path before them, taking ginger movements around it and then guiding her along his same steps. She threaded her fingers through his, gripping tightly to his hand. If he was shocked by her wishing to hold to his hand, he did not show it, instead using his hook to lift the branches and debris out of the way. "I think I should have liked to have known you then," she said, again breaking the silence. "I'm sure you were quite handsome in your uniform."

He chortled loudly, but she couldn't help noticing the pink that rose up is neck and ears. "I would not have even spoken to you in those days, love," he admitted. "While I was competent as a lieutenant, I had no bit of confidence in talking with a beautiful lass, especially not a princess. I would have been a bumbling dolt around you and quite embarrassed myself in the attempt."

"Perhaps I would have enjoyed seeing that," Emma answered. He stopped as she did, his eyes searching her face for something as she rose onto her toes for better position in front of him. Though she knew no good could come of it, she felt her body swaying toward his. He was the first to back away, stuttering something about hurrying along before the weather caught up with them again.

The walk toward the palace was a slow one with areas of their path washed out in the rain and having to stop occasionally to allow Killian a chance to clean off his boots for better footing. When they reached one area that was completely washed out, he lifted her into his arms to carry her across. Her gasp of surprise made him laugh. "I was only trying to save the dress," he informed her. "I should think that ruining two in the same day might be a bit much, even for a princess who can afford to be so wasteful."

She rolled her green eyes at his cockiness, but didn't scold him for the sentiment or the action. "You do realize I could have cleaned the other dress with magic, don't you?" she asked as he placed her back on the ground.

Stopping short, he stared back her in surprise. "And why didn't you?"

She passed in front of him, the skirt of her dress swishing against his legs as she moved. "Perhaps I wanted to see your ship again," she said with a wry smile. "I have fond memories of being there."

Thunder cracked in the distance and Killian looked warily at the path ahead of them. "Your memories are not faulty, love, but your timing might just be. We need to get help back to Queen Elsa."

Their steps increased in speed as they darted between the trees and past a small clearing that Emma said as a child she had planned to build a house on because she wanted her own place. When Killian looked toward his companion, he noted the way she chewed her bottom lip and kept her eyes downward. When he asked after her, the answers were short and she did not volunteer much in the way of conversation.

"Did I say something wrong?" he asked when he realized he had been rambling about some nonsense for far too long.

"It's just that I…Do you think about it? Do you think about kissing me?"

Though he knew her question had not come easily, he couldn't help but smile at the vulnerability of her question. "Of course," he answered, breaking off a stick to test how deep the mud laid caked on the dip in the path. "I had never had opportunity to kiss a princess before that moment."

Instead of beaming with pride like he had expected her to do, she looked hurt. "You only see me as that, as a princess?"

His chin tipped upward and his hair fell back against his damp forehead. "Love, I cannot ignore your title any more than you can ignore the life I lead. And while I cannot forget kissing you and do so enjoy your company, I also know that I cannot fool myself into thinking that I would ever be worthy of more than just a passing affection from you. Emma, you're going to lead a kingdom someday. You'll have need of a husband who can help you do that. And by then I will be a memory to you, someone fancied the brilliant princess who allowed him the privilege of holding her that once."

"If you believe that there is no room for you in my life, why did you agree to write to me?" She turned her head to the side in question to him.

"I'm a strategic man, love. And a hell of a captain, but I do have a weakness. And I believe you brought it out in me. I can't deny you anything that you might ask. Emma, I've been chasing after the Dark One for longer than I care to remember. It's been a singular focus of mine for lifetimes, but one request from you and I am playing second fiddle in your quest to take him on. As for writing you, I could not deny that to you either. I know that it will end in hurt for me. There will come a day when the letters cease or your letter is replaced by the announcement of your betrothal and you lose interest in an old pirate. Yet I persisted because it was your request. I would not deny you that comfort when you asked, no more than I would deny you anything else."

"I shouldn't press my luck though," she commented softly. With tiny bob of her head in agreement with herself, she led along the path again, dodging as many of the puddles as she could. With the stable in sight, she again grabbed hold of his hand and squeezed. "I told you we would find it," she announced. "I grew up playing in these woods."

"Your beginnings sound like quite the adventure, love," he said, pulling her into his side in a sort of celebratory embrace. "But care to explain to me how these stables are so far from your palace. I seem to recall that you said the palace is at least another hour away."

"We have more than one stable," she explained patiently. "My parents acquired a good deal of land when they came into power, as Regina…well, she'd acquired it herself. They have used it mostly for agriculture. It seems to give some of the villagers steady jobs."

"I see," he said as she explained the basic tenants of economics in such a way that he almost wanted to laugh. Her grasp on the subject was remarkable, but she seemed to think that someone such as himself would have no such understanding. He stood quietly as she continued her recitation of obviously noted authors when she stopped suddenly.

"You know all this, don't you?" she asked, looking ashamed. "I'm carrying on as though you are some idiot."

"I may have had to endure a few lessons at the academy, love, but your accounts are a good review on the subject. Perhaps we might try another topic later though? It appears we have arrived in time for another passing shower." Sure enough the fat drops of rain began to fall as they rushed into the sanctuary of the wooden structure. The men who were usually working there seemed to be in the fields rather than sitting there waiting for them, but Killian insisted that she warm herself before they looked further. Beating the dust out of a woven blanket, he frowned as he stepped toward her – unsure about such a dirty linen for her.

She accepted it though, waving a hand over it to clean the faded fabric easily. With a slight rise of her shoulders, she explained that in her younger years she had stealthily used magic to clean her chambers. "It was easy enough," she explained.

Despite her best attempts, Emma was not quite ready to take on Mother Nature as a foe in the realm of magic. She could not stop the rain from falling any more than she could stop the passage of time that seemed to be slipping away from her. She did not quite know what to do with herself, looking about the cramped space in an effort to find some of the staff who might be milling about to help her. Finding none, she took another step inward and collapsed onto a bench there by the door with the blanket about her shoulders.

"We'll simply wait out the storm, love," Killian told her. "No sense in you becoming ill by taking you out into it." He patted her hand and left her sitting there as he poked about the small sized stable that held only two horses. While there were other stalls, they were used more for storage of various equipment and items that neither recognized. There was nervous energy about his observations that she couldn't help but point out as he lifted a saddle blanket for the third time as though something new might be under it. "I apologize. I am afraid I don't quite know what to do with myself. All of these years in planning to challenge the Dark One, I never quite imagined that the battle or preparations would include a beautiful princess or royalty of any kind. To be frank, I have avoided such trappings and to find myself here is at the very least disconcerting."

She nodded her head, smoothing back some of the hair that had come undone from her braid. "You don't have to be nervous, you know?" She crossed her legs at her ankles and smoothed her hands over the skirt of the dress she had borrowed from Elsa. "You have never had issue with talking to me before."

His smile seemed almost meek as he turned on the heel of his mud caked boots to face her. "It is not you who is the worry," he said, his hand reaching up to run in the spot between his hairline and the tip of his ear. It was a nervous tic that seemed to come out when he was imagining something uncomfortable or hiding some embarrassing truth. "But I dare say that your parents will not be very welcoming to me even in the best of circumstances. And here we are again in a situation where you have ditched your guards and guardians to find yourself alone with me."

"You're worried that they won't approve of you," Emma surmised. "I won't lie. They aren't going to be pleased at my bringing a pirate into their home or kingdom. My father is especially wary of those in your line of work, but they trust me, Killian. When I explain…"

A smile cracked his features. "I have no doubt that you could talk them into anything, my darling. You have that way about you, but you must admit this is a bit of strange one for me. I'm far more used to taking from royalty than cooperating. I have somewhat of a track record for avoiding those who could throw me in the brig."

"You could run now. I would not tell. You could head off to handle the Dark One alone or…You could go back to your ship. There is nothing to stop you. I assure you that I'm more than capable of getting help to Elsa and getting everyone back to the palace."

"A man would be a fool to doubt you," Killian said, noting the brilliant intelligence shining in her green eyes.

Her faint smile held a touch of sadness. "I don't know that I trust myself to do this," she admitted. "I have never trained to use my magic this way before. Never had to face such… My step-grandmother and everyone my parents have known with magic other than fairies have succumb to the darkness that magic brings. " She swallowed. "I've never had to do more than mere parlor tricks before. And now I have to face him to protect a child, myself, and maybe this entire kingdom.

"Not Queen Elsa," he pointed out.

"No, that's partly why I have wanted her here. I want her to help me be strong enough for this."

He lounged casually on the stall's low wall, his arms crossed over his chest. It might have been just an act, a ruse to make her think that he was not worried about her. "Emma, I don't know all that much of magic. I've tried to avoid it the best I could. But I feel that I do know you as well as I can. I trust that if this man, this Dark One, thinks that you are a threat, then that is more than enough. Where he is conniving and cowardly, hiding behind the magic that is inside him, you are powerful in that which is inside you. You have no intention of harm or pain. Your good heart is reason enough to believe that you will not allow a power hungry crocodile to take over your life."

"You have so much faith in me."

The ease with which he had been standing there turned much colder as he straightened, the leather of his coat creaking with the movement. He'd asked her several times if she was cold, offering it to her in exchange, but she had said she was well. Stubborn, he liked to think; she was stubborn and determined. Both of those were necessary for her task. Heat creeped up his neck as he felt her green eyes imploring him. "I believe in you, love. I am not wise enough to know what it will take to defeat the Dark One, but I have little doubt that you will succeed."

She did not waver, folding her hands into a ball in her lap. "I should make note of that," she scoffed.

"That I believe in you? I should think that much was clear from my letters." His brow knitted in a confused set of lines.

"No, that you admitted you aren't wise," she said, attempting to keep her mouth a straight line. When he realized her teasing, he laughed loudly and nearly scared the horses. She tittered along with him, her cheeks rising up to nearly cover her half closed eyes.

"It is a rare occurrence," he admitted.

Soon the rains subsided again and the two stable hands were able to make their way to Elsa, the guards and the stuck carriage. Emma had offered to go with, but Killian had pointed out that the job would be best done with fewer to transport. So with the use of one of the horses, he led her back to her home through the path so familiar to her. Dusk was just settling over the freshly washed gardens as they approached the stone pillars that stood in constant guard.

***AAA***

Regina dangled the necklace between her fingers, letting it sway to and fro like a divine amulet. Her chocolate eyes watched it sway, losing her focus in the constant motion. Under her breath she hummed a simple tune, one that her father had sung to her years before.

"There you are, darling," Robin said, bypassing the chairs to approach is wife. "I was beginning to worry about you."

"I'm perfectly well," Regina said, her unfocused gaze still directed at the necklace. "Just thinking."

Dropping into the cushioned seat beside her, he let his own eyes follow the arc of the pendant in its perpetual motion. "I've never seen that one before," he commented. "Is it…"

"It was my mother's," Regina interrupted. "Just a little bauble that she particularly liked. I had left it here in the castle back before when I was queen. Snow found it and gave it to me today."

His right hand raised up to scratch at his jaw. "That was nice of her."

Regina's breathing was tight in her chest, her lips slightly parted as she breathed in harshly. "You didn't know her – my mother – she was…"

"I heard of her, darling," Robin said, attempting to soothe away whatever Regina was feeling about her mother. He had heard the horror stories of the woman who killed for sport and put her desire for social climbing above all else. The woman had been a terror and someone that every villager feared before becoming a legend after her death.

Reaching out her free hand to stop the necklace from swinging, Regina attempted a smile at her husband. "You have a belief in people that most would find naïve. You fell in love with me despite everything I have done. But I doubt you could have found much good in my mother. My mother had few redeeming qualities, but she was my mother. Everything she did, she did for a better life for me. No matter how wrong or horrible, she was trying to make my life better."

"She must have loved you very much," Robin again soothed.

"I don't know that she was capable of love for anyone but herself," she added sadly. "She loved power and prestige. She would hate what I have become."

Robin considered that for a moment, holding his head to the side with a sympathetic tilt. "I imagine most parents have twinges like that. They want us all to be successful and wonderful, better than them. We never quite measure up, though. I still think she would be proud…"

"No," Regina argued. "She wouldn't understand. If she were in my shoes, she'd rather be dead than powerless. I almost wish she was here. She knew Rumpelstiltskin better than anyone. He trained her. He trained me." Stubby candles sat in a dish at the center of the table, their wicks cold from lack of a flame and the knotted evidence of their dripping from earlier dotted down their fat sides. Regina waved a hand over them, but they remained stone cold. "That was one of the first things I ever learned to control. I could make fire with a flick of my wrist. It is practical, but makes a great weapon too."

"They left you with nothing," Robin said as though the realization just hit him. "You are truly without magic."

"Not a drop," she confessed. "I had thought or maybe hoped that they would give me the chance to prove I was worth it now."

The thief's pinched face showed that he was holding something back. Swallowing hard, he held his hands on the table, palms up. "I've never had magic, my dear, not a bit of it. I've never been a fan of it actually. And I think that Snow and David are making a mistake to keep you from yours. If they intend to win against the Dark One, they need everyone with magic on their side. But you cannot put your self-worth on such a thing. I'm quite handy with a bow and arrow, but what if tomorrow I couldn't see or I lost a hand. Would I be less of a man for not having that skill at my ready?"

Her eyes went upward in a defiant response. "It's not the same thing," she said angrily. "I can't be like them. I don't sit here hoping that Rumpelstiltskin will somehow just go home with his tail between his legs because Emma can do a few tricks. I don't hope for the best when there is an emergency. I fight. I prepare. I do everything I can to make sure that…I would not be relying on faith and trust that good will win. Sometimes it doesn't."

***AAA***

Killian did not quite know what to expect as Emma told him to wait in the sitting room area just off the main hall of the palace. It was not a large room or particularly plush and comfortable, but the space was adequate and normally provided a spot for visitors to gather themselves and their thoughts together before meeting directly with the royal family or some other dignitary. A warm fire was burning despite the date on the calendar, as the room had seemed chilled with the weather turning so dank.

"I'll be back in a moment," she said, her fingers curling around the brace at his left wrist. "I need to see to my parents and alert them as to your presence."

Even through the thick leather he could swear that her touch was warm to his skin and practically burned him. But he assumed that was just his imagination. He could list more than 100 reasons that she should not affect him, that he should not allow her to do so. However, he couldn't help but feel a little weaker each time she smiled and a little stronger each time she said his name in that rolling way that she spoke.

"Love, I shouldn't be here. I'm not welcome. I'll take my leave and set up came a few miles from here. There will be no issue then…"

Squaring off her shoulders, she frowned with displeasure. "My parents have house guests that include a thief, an evil queen, two werewolves, children, an ice queen, and several dwarfs. A pirate is hardly an issue. Besides, you're my guest. I want you here. As my friend, I want you here." Her hand still gripped his wrist as though to implore him to do this for her.

His breath was shaking, as it often was before he entered a fight or combat, that intake before his body lunged forward. "Emma, I don't wish to say no to your request, but this might not be the best of ideas. Your parents have made very strong and clear edicts about outlawing men like me. While I am certain your intentions are good, love, I'm not so sure that your parents will see past my profession and title."

"Leave that to me," Emma said firmly, taking on his usual confidence. While he could certainly take on any number of foes, she was adept at her parents. She only needed to talk to them. "You are here to help me. It's not as though you were asking something more personal." Dropping her lashes quickly, she hid the emotion that flashed there. "I will explain your knowledge of the Dark One is something we could use and would benefit us."

One corner of his mouth quirked up. "I almost believe you that you see me as an asset." When she didn't respond right away, he sank a bit lower in his boots with disappointment, though he could understand her lack of response.

"How could I not?" she finally queried, her own smile a bit dimmer than she felt. "Besides, my brother would be quite disappointed if you did not at least stay long enough to say hello to him. He is sure that your frequent calls to us at Granny were about your desire to see him."

Chuckling, Killian's gaze swung over her tenderly before he averted his eyes in answer to her questioning response. "I should like to see the lad," he admitted. "He's an amusing fellow and a great entertainment with his tall tales."

"I should warn you that my step-grandmother has brought two children as well. Two young boys, a few years less than Leo. They will probably be just as enamored with you as my brother and myself." His eyes grew at her slight confession. "I mean not the same way as I…You know what I mean." She took a stuttered step backward, her hand lingering on his wrist before she wrenched it away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that to come out that way."

"Love, I don't see any issue with your statement. I wouldn't question your sanity for being enamored of me, but more think you were setting your sights below your means. You are meant for princes or noblemen, not pirates." The tenderness in his tone and the hooded look of his eyes said he was testing her resolve.

"Leave me to worry about what I am meant for," she said as though he had suggested something much more minor. "I will fetch my parents."

 ** _Thoughts?_**


	17. Chapter 17

Red met Emma in the small alcove outside the suite of rooms reserved for the princess, her hands forged together in a knot and worry etched on her borrowed face. "I never knew how exhausting it was to pretend to be someone else," the usually dark haired woman said. "And you dashing off with my cloak did little to settle my nerves. I doubt your parents would have taken it well if their daughter transformed into a wolf in front of them."

There was something odd about seeing yourself stare back at you, but Emma tried to ignore that as she muttered the incantation she had read about. The wave of Emma's hand seemed an inadequate response to the dire straits that the woman found herself in, but it did return her to the dark haired state that came natural. Another wave of her hand and Emma was wearing the dress that those in the palace had seen her in all day. "Thank you for this," Emma said with a soft smile. "I have one more request of you."

Skepticism etched the older woman's face as she watched the ease at which a woman who had been so reluctant earlier now used magic with such ease. "I don't exactly enjoy misleading my dearest friend, especially when it comes to her daughter. But I suppose I could hear you out."

Grateful, Emma slid her arm through Red's to pull her a bit closer and whispered conspiratorially. "Killian's here."

"Are you mad? You've brought a pirate captain to your parents' home? Is he mad?" Red's thin frame seemed almost terrifying as she leaned toward the young princess. Her eyes grew almost an amber yellow with anger.

The pleading in Emma's eyes was evident as she whispered with more urgency. "He's here at my request. He knows where the Dark One's lair is located. We can…"

"You want me to sing the pirate's praises to your parents, reassure them that he is not as diabolical or devious as their imaginations might conjure him to be, and claim that you are simply in awe of his abilities and knowledge rather than something else? That's your favor, right?" The skepticism drained into a bemused expression. "And do I even care to know how you learned of this?"

Breaking off contact with her godmother, Emma frowned. "I asked him to deliver Elsa to the port. He did so without so much as a question. And then I learned that he has been seeking out the Dark One himself." She was rambling, something that Red was clearly going to call her out on so Emma continued in an effort to avoid the lull that would make that possible.

The sigh that left Red's mouth was overly dramatic and loud. "Go and prepare your father, I'll deal with your mother. They might as well be alerted toward your affections."

"Red, I don't…"

"I have eyes, Emma. And he was around long enough for me to see every woman at the tavern at least turn her head in his direction. You might have royal blood in you, but I sincerely doubt that you are immune from being attracted to him. That's what the stammering and shifting is all about. Best let it out now than let it simmer."

***AAA***

Emma was not sure her mother would have been any easier to talk to about the fact that Killian was waiting downstairs. She had no intention of telling either parent that she was attracted to the man, but she did need them to understand that she felt him a necessary addition to their cause. That would be enough for the time being, especially given her father's recent discussions that she was going to have to give some thought to appropriate companionship in the coming years. That was how he had worded it, making her wonder if he thought love was out of the realm of possibility for her. It sounded so cold and clinical rather than the mutual affections her parents shared with true love.

"Papa?" she asked from the partially closed doorway. When she was little he had said he wished her to learn not only the proper etiquette for her life as a princess, but the finer points of leadership and military strategy as well. Quite a few nights were spent sitting upon his lap as he poured over maps and charts. His voice had been sweetly charming to her as he pointed out a few things and played games of pretend with her on their surface.

"Emma," he called out, a grateful mask falling over his weary features. "I didn't know where you had gotten off to this evening. I had hoped to see you at the evening meal, but this is a wonderful surprise."

"I wanted to see you before the evening meal, to speak to you." She watched him straighten up from his seat, his hand holding at his waist where his sword usually sat. When she was a child she had commented to her mother that she didn't understand his small fidget that way, but her mother had said that it was an old habit for him now. He was constantly on patrol and guarding his family that he felt bare without it.

"Of course, my daughter, I welcome the opportunity." His sandy hair was always cropped so short that she had never seen it fall across his forehead as Killian's did. She realized that her father was quite a bit more utilitarian than the pirate, his clothes and grooming lending themselves to that rather than anything showy. That was not to say that he was not a handsome man, just less obvious in the projection of it.

"I must start with an apology," she said when her father indicated they should sit in the two straight back chairs near the curved wall of windows. "I disobeyed mother and went to fetch Elsa. I've been gone all day."

Her father did not look terribly surprised, but seemed to run through a few things. "So you in the library today? That was…"

"Red," she supplied, looking relieved that he was not lecturing her yet. "I performed a glamor spell to change our appearances so that I could go."

Oddly enough there was a bit of pride in her father's chuckle. "I don't know if I should scold you for disobedience or compliment you for controlling your magic so well. That's quite impressive. You and Red fooled all but Henry." He advised her of the child's cries that she was not Emma, explaining that after Red's hasty exit and quite a bit of soothing from Regina that the boy had been fine. "He's a remarkable boy, who you have seemed to quite enamor with your charms, Emma."

"I didn't mean for him to be hurt," she confessed. "He's a wonderful child."

"And perhaps smarter than the lot of us. Now, I am not pleased that I did not see through your disguise and ruse, but I'm happy that your magic is coming easier to you. Putting that aside though, why did you feel the necessity to fetch Elsa yourself? I've never known you to be so protective of her. So that leads me to suspect some other motive. I should hear it from you before guessing?" Sitting back in the chair, he appeared eager to hear this from her. She had never been very good at hiding from him, but she had tried on more than one occasion. He always let her confess, but never let her forget that he was never quite as out of the loop as she might have thought or hoped.

"I had asked a man I met while at Granny and Red's to escort her here," Emma said, hoping that she could at least hold back the multitude of emotions that boiled inside her before her father analyzed them. "He's actually, to my surprise, quite familiar with the Dark One and his lair. I have asked for his assistance."

That news did seem to surprise the King, who sat open mouthed for a moment and considered his daughter's statement carefully. "This man," he said, his words serving like a man grappling with his footing. "He wouldn't be the same your brother has spoken of quite admirably since your return. I am afraid I have neglected my duty as a father if he is. I should have better vetted this man who has found residence in the hearts of my son and daughter both without my knowing any key details of him."

Her cheeks felt warm as her father digested this bit of information. "His name is Killian Jones," she said as stoically as she could under the circumstances. He's a former naval lieutenant and now is the captain of his own ship." Her left hand felt warm where she had curled it around his, the memory of the touch feeling almost as strong as the actual sensation. Fearing that she would flush pink with the memory, she quickly dismissed it and prayed that her mind would settle on anything else.

"And by captain of his own ship, I'm assuming that you mean…"

"He's a pirate, father, but before you jump to conclusions, I should be allowed to explain." Drawing in a breath, she gave a brief and somewhat scant version of their first meeting and the kindness he had shown her. "He wasn't aware of my title or anything like that, Papa. He's been very much a gentleman and very helpful to both Red and Granny."

Her father was usually a quite reasonable man, not known for outbursts or rushes to judgment. However, she was sometimes surprised. His face pinched with disgust. "I didn't raise my daughter to converse with pirates. And to bring that man around your brother? What if he had kidnapped you? Or Leo? What if he ransomed you? You risked the treasury of this kingdom for what purpose?"

"He's not like that," Emma declared, not surprised that her father was having a hard time believing a pirate could be anything but dangerous and deadly. "He's quite nice actually." The words were weak and she felt her mouth practically spit them out rather than offer them in real explanation. Her father was already out of his seat and marching toward the door. She wanted to call after him, beg him to stop, but the words were slow in coming. Instead she followed him, grabbing a strong arm and swinging him toward her. "Father, please listen."

"Emma, you're not a child. You have to know that we must protect ourselves not just out of common sense but to avoid what could start a war against us from other nations. You were with the Lucas women to be of assistance to an ailing woman and her granddaughter. You were there to become better acquainted with the ways of the villagers and understand their plights. I agreed to avoid the spectacle of your being there by not leaving behind a guard. I thought you cautious enough not to gallivant with pirates." He shook his head, his skin reddening as he spoke and the color blatantly obvious against the cream colored tunic he wore. He always seemed to wear muted colors unless it was the most important of state events.

"Father, I did not befriend Killian out of defiance toward you, mother, or the kingdom. He has been simply someone I spoke with and visited with during my stay at Granny's. I asked him to write to me and we have written. It is nothing shameful or dire, simply…letters." She hated to shade the correspondence that way, as the written communication had been more than that. She just did not want to try to explain that to her father.

"He knows of the Dark One?" David asked, his brow furrowing deeply. "Is that why he is here? He knows somehow that you possess magic and of our plans to draw the Dark One out into the light by having your abilities on display? How do we know he is not an agent of this Dark One? He could be planning something even more horrible."

***AAA***

Red could tell that her friend was feeling a mixture of emotions as she held her thin hand up to ward off too much information. "We'll be taking dinner in the family dining room," she told the young servant who was standing nervously in the doorway. "Just a few moments of privacy, please Sadie."

The girl who might have been younger than Emma curtseyed and backed out of the room as Snow's eyes flashed back to her friend with a pleading.

"He's truly not that bad, Snow," Red said, her hand flying up to the silver chain that held a small pendant. "He may be a pirate, but I sense something much more gentlemanly underneath. And to be honest I think your daughter brings that out in him."

The Queen's short laugh didn't match the dismayed expression on her face, but it was perhaps the release she needed. "This is all just too much," she said somewhat breathlessly. "You know I always hated women who did that. Women who fluttered about and practically swooned upon hearing news. And yet I'm feeling vaguely like I can understand them better today."

Red pushed a chair in her friend's direction, offering a bit of a smile that was hesitant. Her eyes searched for any sign that her friend might be blaming her for this, questioning the logic of allowing Emma to consort with any man, let alone a pirate. She found nothing more than sincere worry over the facts and thoughts tumbling through her head. The Queen sat primly on the edge of the chair and then fell back against it in an exaggerated movement.

"I'm going to try to forget that my daughter, my darling little girl, has somehow found it inside her to trust a man who terrorizes the crews of ships on the high seas. I'm going to try to forget that you are describing her as being smitten with such a man. I'm trying to ignore the fact that she has not been open about this to me and that you are telling me, not her. And I'm going to look at this logically."

"You always were logical, but you have a soft spot for love too," Red jokingly teased. "But I agree. Let's look at the logical side of things. This man has apparently been searching for the Dark One for many years. According to Emma, he can help us find him. And while I know you don't have it in you to trust a pirate, I would think that you could trust your daughter. Her instincts are very good."

"What do you know of this man, Red? Is he someone to be trusted?"

Red's breath caught for a moment, her hand fiddling with the necklace she always wore. "I can't tell you how to feel about him, as I know that you will make that decision on your own. But if you are asking if I trust him, I have found that I do. Despite his best efforts to present himself as a ruthless man, he's layered beyond that. And if the stories I have heard are true, he's strong and a good ally to have in any fight."

***AAA***

Granny was a bit shocked to see the pirate in the sitting room as she puttered about trying to find everyone for dinner. Not giving him the satisfaction of her surprise, she trudged in and picked up a stray pillow to replace it upon the settee. "This place certain sees its fair share of strange visitors," she said, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Lady Lucas," he said with a grand twist of the words on his tongue, "I wondered if I would get to see you here. When Emma said that the palace was practically bursting with friends and family of the royals, she was not speaking in jest."

The woman's tired face strained to not match the man's dazzling smile. "You seem quite at ease for a man who could be thrown into the dungeons at any moment. I knew you were cocky, but marching through the front door of a palace is a bold move, Captain."

He chuckled nervously, his heavy lashes shadowing his cheeks. Anxiety was clearly dulling his wit as he shifted in his stance. "Emma insisted," he offered by way of explanation. "She's seeing her parents now."

The older woman was clearly suspicious and wiped her hands along the half apron she still wore over the chestnut colored work dress she wore. "Emma insisted," she repeated. "I never thought I'd see you go against common sense and logic for a woman."

He felt a ripple of mirth at the image her words created in his head. "I know of few men who can refuse a beautiful woman, fewer still if she is the heir to the crown. I'd be a fool to make an enemy of her."

Granny conceded the point and told him that at the least he should sit to wait. He looked to anxious pacing the five of so steps between the cushioned seat and the fireplace. "Don't show all your cards at once," she offered by way of advice. "And duck to your left when the King greets you. He tends to curve the opposite way in times of attack."

"Thank you," he said, shaking the dark head quickly. He knew well that this could be a trap for him. While Emma would not hurt him, he could not squelch that fear that she was not estimating her parents correctly.

The woman made her excuse of dressing for dinner, telling him that she hoped to see him there. "I wouldn't worry too much. The King and Queen are preparing for battle against a foe. You are the least of their concerns."

***AAA***

The clouds in the sky were a wide array of colors as they hung over the setting sun and created a fiery glow that seemed to rival that of the smaller and contained one of the room's fireplace. Emma commented that she was sorry they could not visualize the sea from their current location, but said that one of the windows of the upper floor of the castle boasted the hint of such a view.

"Only on clear days though," she said, lifting at the hair that framed her face with long fingers. She had unwound it from the thick braid, leaving it to dry in waves around her. "It's nothing like the views you're used to seeing though." Wistful and a bit nostalgic, she repeated for him the lines of one of his letters where he described the sunset.

They faced the window, knowing that her parents should arrive momentarily on their way into dinner to greet this visitor to their home. She had hastily dressed in an appropriate gown for the evening in her rush to be at his side during the introductions, feeling that she should not abandon him when he was there at her request. The taupe color was a great complement to her golden hair and green eyes.

"You don't have to meet them," Emma blurted out, her face thoughtful and concerned. "I could just say that you are helping me and that there is nothing for them…"

He smiled at her nervousness, the fact that she was standing so straight next to him and her weight swaying from side to side. "I am not completely at ease with the idea, love, but I will do it. Besides, I have had very few encounters with royals with the exception of you and your friend." He hoped his words sounded playful and put her at ease, but they must not have since she jerked her head to meet his gaze.

"I thought in the navy… Well, wouldn't you have come in contact with many royals?"

"I was an officer," he clarified, "but not the captain. That was my brother, Liam. He was the liaison between the ship's crew and the dignitaries in each kingdom. I simply offered support from afar. The closest I suppose was a rather dowdy woman who was of some title or another. She christened the ship and practically bolted off of toward home after a horrible case of seasickness. I believe you may be the first royal to ever actually tour the Jolly Roger, Queen Elsa being the other. You are certainly the most beautiful to ever walk about her."

Exhaling through her nose, she folded her arms over her chest. "You tell me that we are not of the same sort and should not be too close, but you say things like that at the same time. It's quite mystifying, Killian. You should be clearer in your intentions."

"Emma, my shortcomings as a man and lack of suitability as anything do not stop my eyes from seeing your beauty or my ears from hearing that wonderful way that you mind thinks. You make my position difficult, darling, in that I cannot stop myself from being taken with you despite our most notable differences." He boldly reached out his right hand to brush back a waving tendril of her hair that framed her face. "If I were of higher standing or you of lower, I don't doubt that I would have already thrown myself at your father's feet to beg for a chance to get to know you as I should wish I could."

Her top teeth bit into her bottom lip as she tilted her head back to look up at him. "You make me wish I did not have a title," she admitted, her eyelashes fluttering down as she attempted to block out the tender look back. "Perhaps, things might be different after."

"After what?" he asked, breathing in the scent of her that seemed to wrap around him and make his retreat all that more difficult. His torso was turned toward her and she seemed but an inch away. However, his faculties did tell him that kissing her senseless while they waited for her parents was not a smart way to behave.

"After we," she said, emphasizing their togetherness, "defeat the Dark One. If we were to show my parents that we were capable of such a feat, they would surely…"

She did not have time to explain as two of the trumpeters made Elsa's arrival known, blaring out the familiar notes that made Emma and Killian each jump. She appeared apologetic as she smoothed out her dress under her hands and smiled. "No need to be nervous," she said as though he had confessed to feeling such a way. "You know many of us. And it appears Elsa's arrival has helped you avoid a bit of the dramatics of a private audience with my parents until after the meal is complete. Doesn't that make you feel more assured?"

"She has made it before dark, which I know was of a concern to you." He didn't acknowledge her statements about her parents, seeing no benefits to delaying their judgment of him

"No thanks to this weather," Emma commented, laughing a bit that she was reduced to talking about weather with this man.

***AAA***

Emma watched through the corner of her eye as Killian pushed the food about his plate with the intent of creating the illusion of eating it. Having not pegged him as a particularly picky eater, she wondered if it might be his nerves that were getting the best of him until she realized that he was attempting to keep with the decorum of the moment. The quail would require simple but precise knife and fork work to make it digestible. With only one hand, he was not able to do so without a full spectacle that would undoubtedly create tension at the table.

While Elsa continued to speak to her parents about a new trade agreement, Emma took a quick glance around the room to ensure that no others were watching. Finding a moment of privacy, she drew in a breath and narrowed her eyes at his plate. With a quick twitch of her wrist, the food was in perfect bites for his fork and the pirate looked at her with an astonished question on face. She could not answer him, knowing that he would not want the attention and that it would not be as appreciated by the others. So instead she lifted her shoulders slightly and speared another bit of the foot herself.

She was still chewing when her father's voice sounded with more edge to it than when he was discussing business with the royal head of another kingdom. "Our daughter tells us you may have some insight into the Dark One's whereabouts."

She lifted her eyes from the golden rimmed plate to watch Killian. A piece of the bird was elegantly on his fork and halfway to his mouth before he could speak. He lowered it to his plate and abandoned it there to run his fingertips across the napkin.

"Aye, your majesty," he said, the title a bit chipped on his tongue. "I have been tracking and battling with this man for a long time. I was unaware of your interest in the Crocodile until your daughter informed me."

Snow tilted her head to the side with a softer expression than the more disparaging one of her husband. Still she was not giving off a warmness to the man. "You call him the Crocodile."

The pirate shifted a bit in his seat, the leather of his pants creating a protesting sound to his movement. "I would assume that you have at least met him. His skin and general countenance has always reminded me of such an animal. Coupled with the fact that he is the one who removed my hand from my arm, I view him more as a predatory beast than a true man."

Emma's mouth fell open to say something in Killian's stead, but her mother's slight shake of her head told her that was not necessary. "That appears to be an apt description of him and an astute observation, Captain," Snow acknowledged. "My dealings with him have been limited, but I do know Regina has had more than a few."

While not as dramatically as it probably felt to the former queen, all the eyes at the table shifted to Regina for confirmation of this. She gave her best nonplussed tip of her head as Robin folded his napkin beside his plate as if to say he would remove them both from this situation if the tides turned rough for his wife.

"Rumpelstiltskin's appearance is not of consequence here," she asserted. "The man not only has the magic he acquired as the Dark One, but he's a master from studying it. Years, centuries really, of studying spells and potions have made him not only dangerous but probably invincible."

Elsa bristled at this assessment, dropping her fork to the spot beside her plate. "If you truly believe that he cannot be beaten, then why are you here? Why are we all being summoned to take this man on if it is for naught? Is this some form of revenge for you?" Elsa was not old enough to be subject to Regina's terrifying reign, but her mother had told her of it in the years preceding. It had been a cautionary tale of how absolute power can taint people.

"You have no children," Regina said, a small crack in her stoic veneer showing when she said it. "You don't know what it is like to have one of them threatened."

The blonde queen's chest puffed out as though she might challenge back, but again Snow interrupted. "I do know it is like to have a child threatened. And the Queen makes a good point. If you think this is a fool's mission, why are you asking that we risk Emma's safety and all of ours when there is no good to come from it? Are you thinking that if we lose that you can somehow rise to power again?"

David echoed his wife's fears, pointing out that they were placing much on the line at the word of a woman who had wished them harm. In the fray of words, Emma was uncharacteristically quiet, not comfortable with the idea they are talking about her being fodder for the Dark One. She knew that her parents did not view her that way, but the conversation was becoming harder to sustain. Elsa sat next to her with a pout on her pristine features, her nearly violet eyes dark as she questioned again the validity of Regina's claims. However, it was Killian who Emma noticed, his own voice silent and his expression consoling and somewhat studious.

"I think should have a say in this," Emma declared, interrupting Red's diatribe that she was not about to trust a woman whose moniker had been that of the evil queen. "I have said I am willing to challenge the Dark One, to take on his machinations for the benefit and the safety of Henry and this kingdom."

"Emma," her father said warningly. "We are not planning anything that will put you up against this monster."

"Still, I think I should have a voice in this fight. I know that you don't trust Regina. That much is clear. You've kept her at arm's length since arrived. Perhaps that is a product of your fear and experience with her, but we must put such things aside if we are to successfully fight the Dark One. We have assembled this team of people. We have Elsa, Red, Granny, me, and Killian. It's not as though we are a practiced unit. Why are we ignoring Regina's strengths? She was quite good at magic from what you have said, Mother. Taught by the Dark One herself. She is surely more useful than as just an advisor."

Regina's reaction wasn't exactly a compliment to the younger princess. She scoffed and watched with narrowed eyes as the King and Queen seemed to communicate with each other without words. They seemed to share that connection that nobody else could understand or fathom. Finally, Snow spoke. "Perhaps we should consider a more robust strategy when it comes to dealing with the Dark One. It's late now and I think it best we reconvene in the morning?"


	18. Chapter 18

Killian had slept many places in his long life, but inside a guest room in a palace is not one he had ever planned to add to his list. It was not the fanciest of the accommodations, which he assumed were reserved for other royalty or dignitaries. But there is a bed and dresser, a table with a basin and pitcher to allow him to wash up, two chairs near a window that overlooks a small pond by the looks of a silvery moon overhead. Faded tapestries on the way indicated the infrequency of the chamber's use, but provided a block from the cool air that frequented the castles of that day.

He was in the far wing under the apartment or suite of rooms where Robin and Regina were located with the two boys. At the far end of the hall were Red and Granny's smaller suite. He would not have known what to do with such space.

While the bed linens appear to be fresher than those on his ship, two of the chambermaids silently entered the room and went to changing the sheets and blankets that smelled fresh from recent laundry. Not used to such service even from his crew, he bowed his head to hide a bit of the embarrassment of being doted over in that fashion and nearly missed the knock at his door of Emma.

"I wanted to see that you were being accommodated," she explained, a waif like woman behind. "I knew you had not packed or planned to stay but when mother insists…"

She looked quite rosy with her pink cheeks contrasting against her pale skin and golden hair. He could not help but be grateful that whoever had opened the room up for his stay had built a nice fire that played off her features and made her practically glow. "Your mother seems nearly as demanding as you, love," he said, then cringed with the realization he was being familiar with a woman in front of her servants. It would not do to have them disrespect or gossip about her in such a way that might undermine her authority. "But I am grateful for a bed."

"I thought you might be," Emma said, turning to gesture to the woman behind her. "We brought you a few things. I assumed you had no bedclothes with you since you traveled so light. And so I had some brought."

"Quite kind of you," he said, leaving any terms of endearment off. She directed the woman to place the items carefully and then instructed the other two about the curtains. He watched her, clearly in her trained element, and then remembered the way she had cut the meat of his meal and done so without so much as a word. "You like doing that, don't you?"

She whirled about to face him, her face carrying with it a surprised air. "You think I'm being bossy?" she asked. "It's not as though I was trying to be so direct. I just wanted things to be perfect for you. I wanted you to be comfortable."

"I had planned to make camp and sleep on the ground with my coat to cushion and protect me," he said. "I don't care about the bloody curtains." The maids mumbled about his language, but Emma did not seem so offended. "I only meant that you seem to like to take care of me."

Color rushes to her face as she again directs the servant she called Milly to dust off the surface of the table and another to bring fresh water in for the captain. "Is that so strange?" she asked when he thought she was going to ignore his observation completely. "You did very nice things for me during my stay with Red and Granny. Can I not repay the favor?"

His hand was bracing the back of his neck as though he might feel the stiffness settling into his muscles. "You owe me nothing," he said. "I am not here out of debt."

"You are here to fulfill this mission of yours," she answered her own question. "But after? When this is all done? What will you do then?"

His long leather coat is hanging in the wardrobe across the room, but his dark clothes still add to his menacing appearance. While they have that effect, Emma is not all together sure that it is the way that they enhance the blue of his eyes that makes him don them each day. "I'm not much for the planning of my life," he said. "And that seems a deep topic of conversation to have in this lovely bedchamber with servants who are probably wishing to retire to their own beds right now."

She moved two steps toward him, as though she might wish him a good night. She was still wearing the gown from dinner, but her hair was loosely falling over one shoulder. "My mother has requested that I see her in the morning in the solar for breakfast. Would you care to join us?"

"I shouldn't intrude," he said, shaking his head. "And your mother certainly wouldn't want to see me so early."

"Perhaps not," she said, her teeth raking across her bottom lip, "but I would like to see you."

***AAA***

She was not lying that her mother had requested a private breakfast, but she did not mention to him that her mother had asked him to attend as well. So as she paced in the space outside her parents' area of the castle, she is nervous and a bit worried that he would fail to appear. She shouldn't have worried, as he rounds the corner, the soft leather of his boots soundless on the stone floor and his hand tugging a bit at his collar. "New clothes," she said, her tone teasing since she had been there when they were dropped off for him the night before.

"Aye, they appeared with no clear explanation," he said, looking over her shoulder at the arched door that he assumed to be the parlor where Queen Snow is waiting. "I presumed you meant for me to wear them today."

"I only thought of your comfort," she said. She had selected dark pants and tunic for him, though not as detailed and menacing as his typical wardrobe. Her mother would likely say nothing of the change, but would appreciate the effort.

"Are you quite sure your mother won't mind my presence?" he asked, still staring at the door as if it might fly open. There is a hesitancy about his voice that isn't what she viewed as a normal part of his demeanor.

"My mother is anxious to have this all behind us," she explained. "The sooner the Dark One is dealt with the sooner Regina will leave and we can go back to normal."

Killian nodded his head slowly, gathering his thoughts and perhaps his courage as Emma took a deep breath of her own. "Why are your parents so intent on helping her if she is as bad as all that? Shouldn't they have thrown her out if they were that distrustful?" It was a question he had asked himself, remembering clearly the captain who his crew had captured and he had let go to return his wife and children. He knew that there would be repercussions of that, as his reputation was built on fear and not compassion.

"My parents see the good in people, sometimes to their own detriment," Emma said, not sure she could say the same for herself any more. In so much as her parents believed and hoped, she was guarded and jaded at times. Killian seemed to echo that with his own guardedness. "My mother's former step-mother is no different. They want to believe she has changed. And perhaps she has."

"You stood up for her," he reasoned, not sure that he could understand the Princess's theory that she was not able to trust when she so clearly could in certain circumstances. "About her magic."

Holding her head to one side, she twisted her mouth as though she was considering his statement. "If she is without magic, she is not of much use to us against the Dark One. Nobody knows him as well as she does, as she was trained by him. So it seems that our fear that she will succumb to the power of dark magic might be a bit misguided. I am not nearly as trained or practiced. And while she might be rusty, she is still going to know what to do."

"But your parents and the others believe you are more capable of drawing him out?" To see her there was to see a beautiful woman who did not look like a sorceress or witch. The idea that she could be as powerful to make the Dark One cower did not seem even possible.

"Something about a prophecy or a dream or something," the young Princess said dismissively. "Come along. My mother hates to be kept waiting."

The Queen did not look quite as regal as she did most mornings, her usual velvety soft gowns replaced by leather breeches and a filmy white tunic and bright yellow sash. Her boots were freshly shined though a bit worn and hair is not in its tight and intricately designed style, rather held back by a series of braids that knots at her head's crown and the remainder tumbling in dark waves down her back. When Emma smiled hesitantly at her, she rose to her feet to greet them, waving off Killian's stilted bow.

"I'm glad you could both make it," she said, accepting her daughter's kiss to her cheek. "I wanted to see what we could learn from Captain Jones."

Killian blushed a bit at the title. He had been Lieutenant Jones for such a short time. Shorter still was his time as Captain Jones before the Dark One had stolen his hand and crushed the heart of the woman he loved. Even in all the decades that had passed, Killian still felt the pang of those moments and even sharper were the memories of his brother when someone used the title Captain Jones. While he was technically a captain and his name was certainly Jones, the title doesn't feel earned to him.

"I'm afraid my news of the Dark One is sparse and not all that revealing," he said, following Emma's lead to sit in one of the chairs facing the royal woman ahead of him. "His lair is hidden from the sight of all who live here other than himself."

"A cloaking spell," Emma said knowingly. She reached out to pluck one of the sweet and cakelike pastry off the tray. "They are some of the easiest spells to cast."

Emma's mother, an older and duskier copy of her, smiled politely, running the dull end of the knife into the marmalade and over the toast. "I remember that Regina and her mother used them quite often." She chewed for a moment before turning to Killian, regarding the way that he book a bit of the fruit and popped a piece into his mouth. "How would a pirate come to know of a location of the Dark One? Forgive my question, but you must realize that the King and I are not ones to trust pirates. I think we can let go of the pretense for a moment and get to the heart of the matter."

Appearing as though she might scold her own mother for the question, Emma was silenced by Killian's friendly smile back to the dark haired royal. "Your highness, I have spent the better part of my life tracking down this monster of a man. It is pure coincidence that he happens to have made his home near you."

There was an air of skepticism as the woman sipped her tea, watching the pirate over the rim of her cup. "And your telling Emma this information? I don't know too many pirates who freely share information about the treasure they are on the verge of finding."

He'd been in a near staring contest with Emma, not necessarily cold but steady and sure. "Your daughter stated to me in much earnestness that a large part of her quest is to find this man who you fear is a danger to the lad and this kingdom. So long as he meets a just fate, I have no qualms about who delivers that blow, milady. He's a demon by all sense of the word. I am not under any illusion that I would survive an encounter with him."

The reality of Killian's statement felt like a rock in the stomach of the Princess. She swallowed and looked to him with pleading eyes that perhaps he did not need to do this. "Killian, you can't put yourself in harm's way out of revenge."

"So you picture yourself a martyr," Snow responded. "Either that or a man with a death wish. I don't find use for either when it comes to protecting my daughter and the lot of us. We need people who believe in this. Who believe we can succeed."

Killian could not help but the swell of pride he felt when he saw Emma glare at her mother. Standing up to ones' parents was hard, but he could only imagine it if said parents were the leaders of the kingdom. People in their realm put their lives in the hands of these royals. They surely had little use for a daughter who was impertinent or distrusting of their plans. "I simply see that we can help each other, your majesty. There is no trick to it, nor a reward that I am waiting to claim. I believe that knowledge is power so I offered your daughter my recognizance merely as a way to assist her in this quest you have deigned for her."

Emma's eyes shut and she took in a breath, his concern for her not lost on the princess. "Mother, I know that you are a trusting sort. You have always told me that people are truly good if given the opportunity."

Snow practically choked on the sweet tasting treat she had just swallowed. "I don't think I've ever quite trusted a pirate, especially when it comes to the safety of my daughter and this kingdom. Forgive me, but this is not quite that simple."

Tuning out as Emma reminded her mother again that welcoming Regina into her home was a sign of trust, as was considering alliances with other kingdoms that had not always been as friendly. Killian considered the story Emma had shared with him before of her parents untraditional courtship and early marriage that had been plagued with trials and battles. One moment in the tale stuck out to him, as he recalled her telling him of her mother's plans to escape had included passage on a pirate ship. Once Emma had exhausted her pleas and her mother appeared to be drained from the thoughts, he smiled and reached for another of the bites of fruit. "Your highness," he said, breaking the tension that had built between mother and daughter. "I was thinking about your fear to trust me as a pirate. I realize that we are not a trustworthy sort, especially considering your history."

The dark haired woman scoffed, sitting back against the petite chair and eyeing him suspiciously. "I hardly think you know of my history with any pirate, Captain."

"Perhaps not in great detail," he conceded, "but your lovely daughter shared a few tidbits with me in our discussions. She mentioned that you sought passage out of the Enchanted Forest and attempted to barter with some jewels you had obtained." Holding up his hand as if to inspect it, he smiled again. "We pirates do tend to be proud of our little baubles and trinkets, as do many queens and princesses. It's something we share in common."

Patience wearing thin, Snow White's mouth drew in like she had eaten something sour. "I'm sure that our tastes are somewhat different."

"Yes, but I recall tale of a bandit who was wanted by the Evil Queen some years ago," he said, brow raised in contrast to Emma's furrowed one. "She was making a deal with a pirate by the name of Blackbeard. Detestable fellow and hardly a man of good breeding or value. I don't know the conditions of your deal, but I would assume he tricked you. He's not known for good form, especially in dealing."

The Queen's features softened slightly before pulling them tight again. "You sound as though you know him, Captain."

"Better than I wish," Killian said with a minute shake of his head. "The man has sought to capture my ship on numerous occasions and has wished harm on my crew and myself. He's not the sort to be trusted." He added a few of the man's deeds, shielding the female audience from some of the more violent moments. After some of their more colorful conversations, Emma was probably fine with whatever story he might share, but he was not as sure about the Queen. Still Emma echoed her mother's shock at the horrible nature of this man.

The Queen mulled that over as she drank from the tea that was now merely lukewarm, tapping a finger on the hand painted flowers that were a perfect mixture of cornflower blue and sea green. Lowering it slowly, she looked first to her daughter and then to Killian. "Is there such a thing as a trustworthy marauder?"

Killian was still searching for the answer to that when Emma interrupted. "I think there is, Mother. After all, you were a bandit and yet still deserving of trust."

***AAA***

The reason for the Queen's attire became clear after breakfast when she and Granny whisked Emma away to practice her archery and crossbow skills. David and Robin followed to offer advice, though it was clear that Emma was listening more to the women at that point.

"Drop your chin a bit and you'll have better control," Snow White said, tilting her head to study her daughter's form. "Don't close your eyes."

The Princess seemed to be heeding the women's advice as she hit a series of the targets with no trouble at all. She was trying not to smile, not to show pride in her accomplishment, but the edges of her mouth did turn up slightly and her cheeks were rosy. When her mother suggested a break, she gave a short nod and was quickly surrounded by her father and Robin offering more advice to her. This time she listened and mimicked the stance Robin was teaching her.

Killian saw none of this as Elsa had captured his attention that morning and asked for him to help her as she scouted the area around the palace for what she would need. "I've never been much for spells and the like," she explained to him, her voice short and clipped. "My magic came naturally and I did not seek to enhance it. Quite the opposite actually."

"But you think this is necessary," he surmised. "Are there truly magical ingredients just waiting for procurement here on the property?" She assured him these are quite ordinary items and there was no worry that anyone would anticipate what their need of them.

"Yes, Regina does actually. She's the one who gave me a list of items that we might need. That Emma might need."

He did not mention his thoughts on trusting or not trusting the former queen, leaving that to Emma and her family to decide. The two of them darted into a few of the outer buildings for their wares. He was struck by the similarities that were shared by both the blonde women, as they moved and spoke in the same manner. However, Elsa's voice was always steady with its soft and melodic tone. Emma's voice often pulled the curtain back on her royal façade, allowing brief glimpses into her inner sanctum.

"You must think this plan thought up by the King and Queen is worthwhile to have left your kingdom to assist with it," Killian said, his eyes not missing the slight stutter in her step as he questioned her.

"King David and Queen Snow have been ardent supporters of my kingdom and helped my people when I was too young to fully understand the rule of law. They are beloved just as my parents were so of course I trust them." She looked back at the shadow of the palace against the crisp and clear spring day that stood in contrast to the rain before. "I realize that you are concerned for Emma's safety, but they won't let harm come to her."

"Anyone who comes into contact with the bloody Crocodile is at risk," Killian asserted, hefting the bag of their bounty higher on his shoulder. "But I do understand that their intent is not to put her in mortal danger."

Elsa stopped at the garden gate, inspecting the leaves of the newly bloomed plants carefully. Her eyes appeared like crystal as she studied the curvature and color of each piece of foliage. He didn't ask her what she was seeking, knowing that it would probably be lost on him anyway. "I've never seen him before, only heard tale," she said, once again making Killian realize that she was probably mulling over the situation the entire time in her mind. "My sister has dealt with him though."

"And lived to tell the tale," he surmised.

"Yes, you would have to meet her to fully understand, but Anna is different than most princesses. She came here to Mist Haven not long after our parents passed away. She was seeking information about…well, she arrived and was somehow in front of this imp of a man as she calls him. There are few men or women my sister hates or despises, but he is one of them."

"I don't question your sister's taste in that regard," Killian said, holding out a clean piece of muslin for the woman to wrap her selected leaves into for safe transport.

"When she spoke to me about him, she explained that he has unwieldy power and such a lack of a conscience that it makes him quite dangerous. That is hardly news to you, I'm sure." The man's dark head bobbed with affirmation. "But she told me something that may be of use, something that I have not yet spoken to the King and Queen about at length."

Her drift off into silence indicated that she was not yet sure of him or his constancy. Dropping her voice to softer timbre, she leaned in a little closer so as to let him hear and ward off eavesdroppers from the palace staff at any of the outbuildings. "There's a dagger. It's said to be the crux of the Dark One and someone possessing it can control him."

Killian had heard tales of it too, but never seen the actual weapon. From the earnestness in the Queen's tone, it was clear that she had solid reasons to believe in its existence. "And you have seen it," he said, his face scrunching in scrutiny and question. "This dagger that controls him?"

"No," she admitted, her lips thinning. "My sister has not only seen it but held it. I have no reason to doubt her word."

"Aye, I would think her a solid source for you," he said thoughtfully. "Does she know its whereabouts now?"

Elsa's hair was tied in a series of braids that converged at the nape of her neck, but a strand had worked its way loose to wisp across her forehead. She pushed at it, frowning intensely. "No, that seems to be an issue. But surely knowing that it exists may help us. It may be what Emma needs."

The path before them was more uneven than the rest, requiring more of their concentration. "Why have you not told Emma or her parents of this item?"

"I will. I have not had the opportunity of late, but thought that I might discuss the matter with you."

Killian nodded, his eyes training on the palace ahead. "It may be just what we need, your majesty."


	19. Chapter 19

The loud crash of Leo's wooden block on the marble table shattered the silence and concentration in the room. "Emma," Blue said, her voice melodic over the consistent hum of her wings. "You must concentrate. You can't let the little things distract you." Early afternoon flooded into the oblong windows and bathed the floor in square shaped patterns. From the records of the palace, the room had once served as the family dining room, but had been transformed into another study when the grounds had been expanded some years earlier.

The Princess's full lips turned downward. "I think I'm just tired," she muttered, using her palms to push away from the heavy table. "I think I will go take my leave."

"No," the fairy said more firmly. "Emma, this is important. We are growing short on time. We must have you prepared."

Snow looked up from the book she was reading as though she had not be interrupted by the loud crash. "Perhaps a small break?"

"No," Blue insisted. "We must get Emma ready for this. I know you are hoping she won't have to more than threaten Rumpelstiltskin, but we can't be too sure. We can't have her simply stand there and make things appear and disappear. There must be some defense to her actions, as well as some manner of threat."

Snow bit her lip as she watched her daughter resign herself to the task again with a deep intake of breath. "Perhaps it is better if I leave you three alone?" She tipped her head toward the silent Elsa and retreated toward the door. "I'll see about Regina and removing the ban on her magic."

The fairy floated toward the door and then back again, obviously agitated either by the talk of Regina or Emma's lack of concentration. After dictating careful instructions to the Princess again, she waited to see if there was any progress. Again Emma allowed the block to levitate in front of them, her eyes penetrating the smooth surface. This time it moved forward, only about two feet.

"Very good," Elsa acknowledged, her slender hands clapping together as Anna would do. "You launched it."

"Not good enough, Emma," Blue chastised. "I don't know what's wrong with you, but you must not let whatever it is interfere. Everyone is relying upon your ability to defeat the Dark One."

***AAA***

"Killian!" Leo called, ignoring Johana's warning that both Henry and Roland were down for their naps. The boy's feet slapped noisily on the rugless floors as she scampered toward the pirate with arms thrown out for greeting. "You came here!"

"You sound surprised," Killian chuckled, bending at the waist to catch the young prince. "I told you that we would see each other again someday."

Leo's green eyes shifted to the right as he considered this. "You missed me?" he asked. "And Emma."

"Aye," Killian agreed, noting the boy's lack of a filter when it came to emotions. Emma wore her feelings under a mask of propriety and fear, but Leo was too young to do that. He was much more open and honest with his. "The two of you have been quite prevalent in my thoughts, lad. How have you been?"

It might have just been a polite question, something people asked upon seeing someone. Usually it was answered with a one word response. However, in this case, Leo launched into a litany of his daily activities since he had last seen the pirate. While hearing such monotonous details might have bored a man, Killian smiled and nodded as though he had been wondering about just those very things.

"You are surely boring the poor Captain," Johana said to Leo, extending her hand to clasp his. "We should let him be." Killian winked an eye at her, placing his hand on Leo's shoulder.

"Perhaps we can continue this conversation later, your highness. I was on my way to the library to do a bit of research on a topic. Is it possible you might point me in the right direction?" Though his face bore scars of his violent past, his smile was both genuine and nonthreatening as he looked upon the boy.

Leo nodded, his jaw dropping as his arm swung out toward the small children's library behind him. "That's the best one," he declared. "Books and more books." Looking proud, he seemed startled when Johana interrupted.

"I believe the Captain might be looking for something more suitable for his needs," she said gently, pulling the young Prince into her side. "Mr. Locksley is on the third floor in the rear. He's been researching some details of possible weakness that the…that the man might have."

"My thanks to you both," Killian said, his eyes crinkling when Leo seemed delighted at having helped. "I will go there now, but perhaps I'll swing by this library later, lad. You can show me something good to read before I retire tonight."

The third floor of that wing of the palace was not an often used place. There were more bed chambers, a few sitting rooms, and the like all dark and closed off from prying eyes. The library was well lit and obviously receiving more use as Robin had situated himself there for the duration. Killian entered the room with quiet steps, though even those made the lighter haired man look up from the yellowed pages of some volume.

"Captain Jones," he said rather formally. "I had thought you were out on the property some place."

"I was, but wanted to search out some information that might come in handy," Killian answered, leaning over the scattered books on an adjacent table before turning his attention to the tall shelves. "It seems this palace has a few libraries and repositories."

Robin chuckled loudly. "The more time you spend with royals," he said, smoothing a hand over the page he had been reading, "the more you will see their common traits. Royals are collectors of things. Jewels, land, gold, and other types of treasure. But most of all, they seem to collect books. They may not actually read them, but they have them in great supply. Whole rooms are dedicated to their organization by topic. It's quite fascinating really."

"And your family is not like this?" Killian asked. He had heard of Robin only vaguely, but he'd never taken an interest in the stories. Robin primarily had acted on land while Killian's domain was the water.

"My family was nowhere close to the nobility of these people, but my wife…" He smiled sadly. "She's the royal one in our little family. It seems a great waste to me, but most of these palaces are filled with rooms that someone might not enter for months or even years. It surely must seem odd to you too."

"Aye, mate, every bit of space on a ship is used to its utmost," he said, the pads of his fingers running along the spines of the organized books. "There is no room for waste or luxury at sea. Each cabin serves dual purposes at least."

"Perhaps I should have been a pirate rather than a thief," Robin joked, rolling his head from side to side to relieve the tension of staring downward too long. "It sounds like a fine life from what I'm told. I'm sure you're anxious to get back to it."

"I'm a man of a singular purpose at the moment." Taking a deep breath, the pirate spied the man in front of him. His tunic was simple, as was his demeanor. While he could certainly carry off the airs of a much higher placing man, he seemed rather normal and without pretense. It made Killian wonder how such a man could win the love of a woman who born and fought so determinedly to run a kingdom. Regina, whether or not she was the current queen, was not a woman who suffered fools or wasted her attentions on someone deemed unworthy.

"Mate?" Robin asked, amusement seeping into his usually commanding voice. "I wonder if you might tell me why you are staring like that. Did I stain myself during the last meal? Have I grown a second head? Do I remind you of someone?" His titter echoed off the stone walls.

"My apologies," Killian answered. "I suppose I was lost in thought."

***AAA***

Elsa held her breath as Emma descended the stairs and met her on the second floor landing, her hands clasped in front of her and the barest hint of a smile on her face. "Your parents aren't joining us?"

Sighing heavily and casting a longing glance over her shoulder, Emma did not seem amused. "They are debating the whole magic issue with Regina." She frowned severely, her face crumpling. "I hate when they do that. I hate hearing them argue."

"They are fiery people, Emma," the blonde Queen said, her voice calm if a little bit aloof. "And it is a difficult decision. If she's lying or betraying you, this could be…"

"Is it strange that I feel like we should trust her?" Emma asked suddenly. "Her son, Henry, is quite a boy. He's so smart. Did you know that he could…You don't wish to hear about this. I'm sorry. I'm a horrible hostess. I even left you alone to fend for yourself today while my mother and Granny taught me more about their weapons of choice. You must think me a horrible clod." Emma knew that Elsa was not one for leaving her home, let alone her kingdom. The Princess had been so preoccupied with having Killian there and then her lessons that mother hand Granny had thought important.

"It's quite alright," Elsa soothed. "Killian helped me to gather some things for Regina. It wasn't so bad. And as for trusting her, I think I understand. She does seem to be holding in good stead for this. I do truly believe she wants to protect her family at whatever the cost. You and I both know that having your magic subdued makes you feel quite empty and worthless."

Though Elsa was satisfied with her explanation, Emma's eyes flashed at her friend who was already leading them down to the main floor. "You were with Killian?" she asked, her voice slightly unsteady. "Today?"

"Yes, I found him in the main hall this morning and asked him if he would join me in searching for these items that Regina thought might be useful." Elsa was going into a list of what the former queen had suggested, explaining some of the harder to procure ones when she stopped cold. "Oh Emma, I didn't…He was being helpful. He was helping me because it was something for you. That's all. It wasn't anything more."

Giving out a breathless laugh, the Princess shook her head. "Elsa, he was very kind to help you and you were equally kind to keep him company today when I was such a bad hostess."

"Emma, don't worry so much. I am not at all interested in him in any way other than as your friend. You needn't be jealous of that."

"I'm not jealous," Emma protested, her bottom lip protruding outward with her defiance. "There's no reason for me to be jealous of you and Killian. I have no claim there. I just worry that he might be a bit brash for you. He can be that way being a pirate and all, but if you say he was helpful I believe that."

"Yes, he was a perfect gentleman. And perhaps that is why I discussed something with him that I think you should know about." The Queen's demeanor became quite secretive as she looped her arm through Emma's and pulled her into one of the less often used rooms with a furtive glance around.

"I need to tell you about what Anna knows about the Dark One," Elsa announced. With her less than emotional tone and icy demeanor, the statement came with a feeling of dread. Emma nodded mutely and let the woman tell her of the dagger and its rumored powers to control the Dark One.

"So we could control him if we could get our hands on it," Emma said with a glint of hopefulness. "We wouldn't have to kill him or hurt him. We could simply tell him not to hurt Henry or anyone else."

That interpretation was rather simplistic, but Elsa agreed that it would be the safest of the options. "The problem is getting our hands on it. We have to find a way to his castle and then find our way into it. He's not likely to leave such a device out and unguarded. Our best bet is to do so when he was not there." The calmness of her voice did not hide the contempt she had for this man who had tried so desperately to best her sister.

Emma sympathetically reached her hand out to grasp that of the Queen, smiling in recognition that Elsa was not wearing her gloves that were used to hide the magic she had concealed for so long. "You're not wearing your gloves," she nearly whispered.

"I'm trying, Emma," she said with firmness to her resolve. "I want to lead a normal life. You're a bit of an inspiration to me, in that you can control your magic so easily. You hide it from almost everyone until they truly know you. I've never known you to have outbursts like mine."

The torment that Emma felt boiled just under the surface. She knew that her emotions often did get the best of her, remembering the jealousy she had felt upon seeing Lily kissing Killian. The flash of her magic had erupted before she even realized it, sending the barmaid across the deck of the ship. She had not intended to hurt anyone, but yet the action had sent the woman reeling. Emma confessed this to her friend, gripping the Queen's hand in her own as she did. "I can't explain it."

"Perhaps your magic is much more emotional than you would care to think it is," Elsa said, still cloaking her own fear of delving too far into her intrinsic abilities. "Emma, I know you have pushed this topic aside, but it's important we both understand our abilities. Once we face the Dark One, there will be no second chance to get it right. We will have to be ready for a first strike."

"You say we as though you are going to fight with me," Emma said, knowing her friend was unlikely to let up on the topic she was broaching before. "I did not bring you here for that. I only wanted you to help me prepare."

"And I am not a coward, Emma," Elsa said, not offering an excuse or a reason. "I will be by your side for this so long as I am needed."

The Princess's eyes cast downward. "Elsa, you are a true friend. I'm not sure what I have done to deserve your loyalty."

Squeezing the clasped hands tighter, Elsa attempted her best smile. "That's why we must work through this block that is making your magic inconsistent. It isn't anything we can't face."

***AAA***

Killian lunged forward, the tip of his sword piercing the muslin of the man before him. Had it been a real man there would have blood pouring from him, but the practice doll had no such features. The pirate retreated two steps, spun gallantly, and thrust the sword in again with a flourish that made him seem both wild and careless. His leather coat billowed with his moves and snapped as he stood back to admire his work.

"I suppose even a pirate must practice," came a deep voice from the other side of the racks of various jousting and fencing equipment. That corner of the cavernous practice area was dark with no windows to let the light seep in through the panes. Killian blinked as his eyes adjusted and made out the tall figure of the King standing there.

Emma had told Killian that her father had been raised to be a shepherd, but standing there it was another story. David folded his hands one over the other and clutched to the sash that was tied about his waist. His hair was the color of sand after the rain, but his eyes were bright and friendly. The tip of his nose went up slightly and his mouth drew into a look that indicated he was watching the man in front of him with some concern.

"A man who thinks he is above practice and preparation is easy prey, your majesty," Killian said, sheathing his intricately carved sword at his side and waiting for the man to step out of the shadows. "I hope you don't mind me using your facilities here."

With his hand flying quickly upward and rolling in the air, David indicated that this imposition was not that important. "I doubt many of your activities would meet with my approval or the law, but I promised my daughter that I would consider your information without letting that shade my judgment."

With the way the man's face lit at the mention of his daughter, Killian had no doubt that Emma was the apple of his eye. Not only was this man a king, but he was the woman's father. In all his years and experiences with women, Killian rarely had to deal with fathers and never with kings. It merely served to remind him that he was out of his league with any thoughts of him and Emma being more.

"I expected you might challenge me to a duel finding me here and hearing that I had corresponded with your daughter." The pirate, for all his nefarious ways, knew that the quickest way to disarm a potential threat was with honesty. For a moment it seemed to work, as the king's stuttered footsteps indicated his lack of balance. He quickly recovered though and evened the field.

"I promised my daughter that I would give you a chance, pirate," he said, enunciating every syllable of the moniker. "However, one false move."

"I assure you that I feel no comfort in my position or station here," Killian said, furrowing his brow. "But if you don't trust me, why are you here to talk to me. Unless you aren't?"

The King's resolute stand could have doubled for a statue, but Killian was sure there probably was one already or at least in the works. Wasn't that what these people did in their spare time, he thought. Pose for portraits and statues so that they might be admired and worshipped by commoners even after their deaths. It was not a fitting thought or a smart one, as he began to wonder then if Emma had sat for a portrait and tried to imagine an artist capturing the life in her eyes and the way he hair reminded him of sunrise over the choppy seas. Could an artist manage to portray that way she shook just before she laughed or the way her fingers felt as they traced over his hand, reminding him of lacey patterns? He shook his head a bit too violently in an attempt to remove the thoughts from his head before he learned her father had some magical ability to read minds.

"My daughter and the Queen Elsa have spoken to my wife and I," he said, sounding overly formal, which to Killian was a bad sign. "They say you know of this dagger."

He lifted his shoulders casually. "I know what the Queen has said of it, but little more. There are rumors of such a thing, but I've never had a chance to test their truthfulness."

"Then we are on equal footing with this?"

"I suppose that is accurate. Though since you are the one with the plan of how your group thinks to rid itself of the Dark One, I suppose you might have the advantage."

The King looked pensive as he strode closer to Killian, his steps measured and sure. "The Dark One loves to make a scene. I'm sure that you've seen that of him as well."

"Aye," Killian agreed. "He's surely one for an audience."

"We are hosting the Queen of another kingdom right here in this very castle. It would be customary for use to hold a ball in welcome of her, allow the courtiers and the nobles to see and greet her. That is if we weren't planning an all out attack." He chuckled at his own observation, keeping a keen eye on the man before him. "But in thinking about it, I realized that this might just be the perfect opportunity to draw him out."

Killian felt his stomach twist, as he remembered Emma's gratefulness that the Dark One had stayed away. She had confided in him that she was not ready and felt petrified at the thought of facing him yet. "You want the Dark One here?"

"Yes," David said as though he had just announced his preference for a specific beverage. "He will be easier to subdue on our property. And I will bring in my best knights and guards to procure the dagger during that time he is away. It is risky, but I am hopeful."

Killian's laugh sounded a bit darker than he was used to sharing. "Hopeful," he repeated, forgetting for a moment that a single word from a man this politically powerful could have him off to the brig again. "Your daughter's life and safety is at stake and you are hopeful. I should think you would want to be more than that."

"My daughter's safety is my concern," David snipped back. "I'm curious though how you see it as your own." He cleared his throat, eyeing the darker haired man with suspicion. "While I do certainly appreciate your intelligence on Rumpelstiltskin's whereabouts, I have to wonder about your motive, pirate. Why are you doing this? I certainly hope it is not to gain favor with my daughter."

"Much like your daughter, you do seem to get to the heart of the matter," Killian noted with some humor. "No, I have no designs on earning anything as precious as your daughter's favor, your highness. I met her only a few weeks ago. While I do admire much about her, I am simply here still because we all share a similar goal. You want the Dark One contained and his threat to be weakened. I want much the same if not worse for the man who took my hand."

Again with the honesty, Killian thought as David was clearly regrouping. "I suppose then I should be worrying that you are using my daughter to better your chances at defeating the Dark One?"

His hand rested snugly on the handle of his sword, gripping it as his only defense against the King's insinuations. "Your daughter is neither a prize nor a means to an end," Killian said with curt rectitude. "She alerted me to her need of my services and ship. I shared with her my knowledge of the Dark One because I do so admire her tenacity and bravery to fight a battle that is not fully her own."

David's shift of his weight was barely perceptible. "You are quite brash to think I am doing this lightly," David said, visibly offended by the pirate's accusation. "Emma will be in no real danger. She is only meant to panic and alert the Dark One that he is not the only entity with stunning powers of magic. Unlike his, which are gained through darkness and deceit, Emma's come more naturally and have always been without the shadow of a curse."

It was not as though Killian needed to see the benefit in Emma's powers, as he had already found himself in appreciation of them as a part of her. "As bait, you mean?"

"In a way," David admitted. "And she has convinced my wife and I that she will be fully prepared for that role along with the Queen Elsa and Regina." He said that with no hidden disdain, fully realizing that he had given his okay already in his head to returning Regina's powers. Killian did not call him out on it. "Robin will be of use here to protect his wife and my daughter, but your role is the one that causes me pause."

"My role?" Killian asked. He had not thought about that other than hoping he could run an undarkened Rumpelstiltskin through with his sword. He knew the man was immortal, but he had spent years studying and hoping that he might find some caveat that would make that possible. There was no desire on his part to be a cohort with royalty.

"Your presence here presents a challenge with this plan," David admitted, looking much like his daughter as he lowered his eyes. "My disdain for men of your type is well known. If word got out that I was not only welcoming you into my home but collaborating with you, I'm sure that our ruse would be discovered. My wife suggested that you might be sent with the knights to retrieve the sword, but I'm not fully convinced that I trust you for such a mission. You could attempt to your own detriment to procure that powerful article for yourself. You are a pirate, after all."

"You seem a bit hung up on that," Killian challenged, "but I suppose I can understand your trepidation."

"I considered this for the past hour or so. I have come to two solutions that are fitting. I could pay you to procure this dagger for me and then disappear before anyone knows of our deal."

"And by disappear you mean that I would…" He could not even finish the sentence, his mouth feeling like old paper that was dry and dusty.

"Do just that. Disappear. No calls upon our family and certainly no correspondence with my daughter or son." Killian remained silent, his whole being shriveling a bit under the King's scrutiny. The man seemed to see what he was searching for in the pirate's silence. "So I suppose that means that I would wish for you to stay here and attend this ball in the Queen's honor, but not as yourself," David explained, his expression pained. "You, Killian Jones are about to become a prince for an evening."

***AAA***

He had to admit that he looked for her in each room he entered, hoping to catch a glimpse of her golden hair and soft skin that seemed to pink at his touch. There was no real reason to seek her out, at least not one that would keep with propriety. So he made excuses to travel about the inner sanctum of the castle and hope that he might run into her. Finding her in the garden was a surprise and a treat, as she did not even notice him at first.

Her blonde hair was swept up, revealing her long pale neck that looked very much as graceful as the swans she was feeding in the pond. Her gown was a pale green hue that seemed to match the colors of that spring evening perfectly. Not alone, she was holding out bits of bread for her brother and two younger boys, instructing them how to throw out the grains for the majestic birds. Her voice was comforting as one of the birds seemed over enthusiastic and scared the young Henry. His instinct sent him running to her, hiding his face in her skirts as she soothed him and shooed away the animal.

Her left hand waved frantically to ward off the creature as her right sat on Henry's back. That was when she saw Killian approach, just as the bird heeded her warnings and sauntered off in search of some other form of nourishment.

"You seem to be ready to slay a dragon with your fierceness," Killian said, accepting a welcoming embrace from Leo without removing his eyes from Emma. "I feel quite safe with you on the guard against any foe or fowl that might threaten us."

"You're teasing," she admonished lightly, crouching down so that she was on the level with the boy at her side. "Henry, it's okay now. That bird won't hurt you." Both Henry and Roland, who was a few steps away, looked at her with big eyes and wonder. "I'll protect you."

"Aye," Killian agreed, stepping around the island of landscaping that separated him from Emma and the two younger boys. "The Princess is mighty and won't let harm come to anyone."

Managing to pull his face from the thick layers of her skirts, now damp from his tears, Henry smiled up at the blonde princess. "I thought that a knight was supposed to protect the princess, not the other way around." His words were a bit garbled and mixed with hiccoughs, but Emma gathered his meaning.

"I would say that anyone in distress would not be picky over who should save him or her," Emma explained, giving him a gentle hug before sending him off toward Roland. "And I'm quite fond of thinking I can save myself."

Leo spotted his favorite spot in the gardens, the one where a wooden board had been strung with rope over a sturdy branch. Grabbing the attention of the younger boys, he set off for it, shouting an invitation to his sister and Killian to join them.

"I was wondering where you were," Emma said as she gathered herself back up to standing. "I haven't seen you."

"I did a bit of this and that," Killian admitted, watching her face soften in the glowing light that still remained in the day. His blue eyes scanned over her face approvingly. "I had hoped to catch glimpse of you too."

"I…" her voice dropped off as she considered how to finish that sentence. "I wanted to talk to you about Elsa's revelation about the dagger." She swayed a bit as she stood, toward him whether by choice or circumstance. He didn't object.

"The Queen is certainly a great source of information," he said, his eyes sparkling with some unspoken as of yet joke. "She reminds me a bit of Mr. Smee."

Emma nearly coughed from the surprise of that comparison. "Mr. Smee, that older and pudgy gentleman on your ship?" She felt herself about to defend her beautiful friend, unsure why Killian would make such an offensive assessment.

"Not by looks, love," he said with an embarrassed titter. "I only meant that he is a loyal man who is a wealth of knowledge and seeks to help. He is a collector, always looking for trinkets and baubles that catch his eye, especially of the magical or mystical variety."

"And you think that Elsa is that way as well?" Emma asked, still unsure if the comparison was accurate or one of ridicule. "She's hardly a collector."

"Perhaps not of the physical things," Killian admitted, admiring the way that Emma stood there even against him so defiantly. Her head was thrown back and her hands fisted at her hips. It was a beautiful sight to him that stabbed him in his chest. "But she picks up bits of knowledge that she holds to until they are needed."

Her shoulders dropped, relief flooding into her. "That she does," she agreed. Even as her hackles lowered, there was a pensive look about in the shadows of her eyes.

"Should we see to your brother and his young friends? That one seems quite taken with you."

She caught herself glancing uneasily over her shoulder at the three who were thankfully taking turns without complaint on the handmade swing. "Why would the Dark One want him?" she queried, more to herself than Killian. "He's such a nice boy, nothing particularly remarkable that would make him stand out from a dozen others. Is the Dark One such a man who would torment a defenseless child?" Her voice was a bit strained as she blinked back what he assumed to be tears.

"I don't know the reason for his interest in that lad," Killian admitted with a hint of wistful want that he could provide her with the answers. "But from the brief glimpse I saw of you with him, I'd say he is far from ordinary. He seems to have worked his way into your heart, love. And I know for a fact that is no easy feat."

The smile she gave him was not a steady one. "It is not such a difficult task for some people," she said. "Henry is my step uncle or something like that. I'm not big on the titles, but there is that connection. And he's…he's the same age my own son would be if he were still alive." The admission was blurted out, but she was in enough control of her faculties to not miss the look of surprise on Killian's face.

"Your son?" he asked, managing the two words before he rocked backward in his stance. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

Emma gathered her skirts in her hands and gestured with her head toward a bench that overlooked the pond where the swans were back floating aimlessly along the surface. She swallowed with some difficulty before she found her shaking voice. "I was in love once," she said, not letting herself dwell on that statement for too long. "He was a bit older and seemed to me the answer to my prayers of freedom from the responsibility of a crown and a life of court. We had plans, always plans of escaping from whatever we felt was holding us back from the life we wanted to live. He was planning to secure us passage to another realm by trading some rare artifact for a magic bean. However, when I got there to our meeting spot, he was gone. He never contacted me again."

"And you were carrying his child?" Killian asked, trying to make sense of this in his own head.

She nodded shortly. "He didn't know. I didn't even know until after he had disappeared. My family was none too pleased that the heir to the throne was carrying a man's child without a wedding ring or any obligation to fix the situation. So I hid for a bit, stayed with Granny and Red, and with others in my mother's circle of friends. Then one night I was quite alone and delivered my son." She did not offer many details, but explained how she had not found the strength to even look upon the baby's still form. She was only half listening to his words that she was braver than he had even thought before, her conscience nagging at her again.

"Emma," he said for a third time, trying to break through to her. "I know that you will not take my words to heart, but you have nothing to be ashamed of, love. You were in love and acted in accordance with that. His actions speak of his disgrace and shortcomings, not yours."

She could not hide the tears that did fall from her eyes, even when she shifted to turn her face the opposite direction. "Henry is the same age my son would be today," she said, a soft choking sound preceding her words. "He looks so much…It has been difficult to accept lately."

"Aye," Killian said, his right arm resting on the back of the bench. He was not actually hugging her, though he practically itched to do so. "The wounds of the past can easily reopen given provocation."

"You probably think me quite dramatic with the way I'm carrying on," she said, wiping at her cheeks to dry the moisture there. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to carry on this way."

"I think nothing of the kind," he assured her. "If anything, I'm even more impressed with you. I already knew you were intelligent and beautiful, darling. I never imagined you were as strong and resilient as you are now. It only makes me find you all the more magnificent and myself quite lacking." He said it with the languor of a man who would never be satisfied with only a dream.

She hated to admit how much his admiration cheered her and encouraged her. "You are not lacking," she said, her voice not as sure as it had been even while crying. "You make me believe your words could be true."

"There is no deceit in my awe of you, Emma." The last syllable of her name fell away as her hand reached out to cup the side of his face, fingers curling to caress the arch of his cheek and her palm soft against the stubble of his jaw. His eyes fell shut involuntarily, dark lashes like shadows on his skin. "Emma."

"You are not lacking," she repeated. Even with his eyes shut he could feel her breath closer to his mouth, but still he nearly jumped in startled shock when her lips brushed against his.

She was surprising even herself as her heart took a perilous leap in her chest. The kiss she gave him was simple and unhurried, but surprisingly elongated nonetheless. His hand immediately lifted and covered hers as if he was not believing that she was truly touching him. Lingering there just a moment, Killian let his fingers trail along the smoothness of her arm in an unhurried pace, coming to rest along the long expanse of her neck with the pads of his fingers finding their way into the hair that was pulled back from her face.

A shudder passed through her as he maneuvered his own mouth against hers, deepening what had been her soft touch to him. Finding no desire to back out of the embrace they found themselves in, her eyelashes fluttered against his cheek. His mouth slowly took over hers, devouring the softness that he found there, each ministration velvety and turning from languid to hungry in a hurried way that did not seem to worry her in the least.

Breaking away from her mouth, he smiled as she tried to follow him rather than pull back on her own. "Emma, I…" His words were lost as she found her target, recapturing his lips with her own. Perhaps it was the fact that they had kissed before and so much time had passed, but Emma did not want to risk the delay. He simply gave in, feeling for all the world drugged by her as his very soul spiraled in the wake of it.

 ** _A/N: Don't hate on David too much. He's trying to accept that he is going to have to work alongside a pirate to protect Henry and the kingdom, but it is a bit much for him to accept that his daughter is the one requiring that. He'll come around to see that Killian isn't just there for his own revenge._**

 ** _Hope everyone enjoys OUAT Sunday night. I may be curled up in a ball of emotions come Monday morning. I'll try to update then anyway._**


	20. Chapter 20

**_I am posting this curled up in a ball with my wine and ice cream. It's going to be a long three months. Kudos to Colin and JMo for making me wail like a baby over a television show. Great job to both of them! Now on to the Underworld!_**

 ** _But first, here is a new chapter of this story. A little more Captain Swan fluffiness, some beginning bromance, and magic._**

Emma was sure that even with her limited experience with men – Baelfire being the only serious suitor she'd had – that something had changed between her and Killian in the garden. For a moment she allowed herself to believe that there was a chance, a possibility that they could slip seamlessly into something that might even resemble love. It was a strong idea, but one that made those voices in her head doubt herself. It was simply a kiss, a wonderful one that her lips still tingled from with glee, but not a declaration of undying love or a promise of anything more.

Still she proved herself for a moment to be her mother's daughter, basking in hope when he sat next to her at dinner. When his handless arm managed to drag along her thigh under the table, she practically jumped up and demanded to know what he was thinking. However, one look at his smirk told her he was at least trying to reciprocate what she was feeling. And when as a group everyone gathered in the parlor for an evening drink, she caught him staring at a painting of the pond where they had kissed.

"You look very far away," she commented, pulling the empty cup from his hand. "Is something wrong?"

"Not a bit," he said, still not turning from the painting. "You remind me of them, you know."

It was her turn to be confused and befuddled by his statement. "I'm sure I don't," she responded.

"A swan. You're beautiful and elegant just as they are, Emma, but it is more than that. I think of how determined and feisty they are when you and the lads were feeding them. That is you too. Protective and wild over the things you love. I find it an apt comparison."

To her relief her parents were not too worried over her, as she and Elsa sat with Killian and traded bits of stories about funny occurrences and the like. Elsa laughed much more demurely, covering her mouth with her hand as she did. Emma let loose a bit more, her head falling back and mouth wide as Killian told of his brother's attempt to fish and his own soft heart throwing the fish back into the water just moments after Liam had caught them.

"I should retire," Killian said after the evening meal was complete and most everyone else had already disappeared into the different nooks and crannies of the palace. Red and Snow were still awake and busily chatting on the other side of the parlor room. While he could not hear their words, he was sure that the conversation was something to do with Emma since they continually steal glances at her. The dwarfs had managed to scope out a set of rooms for themselves. Regina was already upstairs, but Robin and David are discussing something over a map in another corner. Since Elsa and Granny disappeared a full hour before with claims of sleepiness, that left Killian and Emma sitting upon the chaise there by the darkened windows.

"I suppose we both should," she said reluctantly. She had not mentioned the kisses shared in the garden and neither had he, but every so often she would let her eyes linger on his full lips and wonder if he was thinking the same things. "I don't want to say good night though."

Despite her words, she did not sound like a petulant child. Instead, she was quite sincere as she blinked back at him. "I am reluctant as well," he admitted. "I might have asked you for permission to kiss you good night, but I suppose we have already done that this evening."

She tried to ignore the next look from her mother and give the woman nothing to fret over as she turned her face from Killian to the fireplace. "I wouldn't mind more."

"Greedy?" he asked, his tone teasing. "One would expect such from a princess." There it was, the reminder that she was ranked above him and in his eyes unattainable. Yet, she was sure that for a moment he forgot that in the garden.

"I doubt my parents would appreciate the gesture though."

"Aye, that might be the final blow for me. Perhaps that is your plan though, now that I think about it. You are like a bloody siren, beckoning me toward certain death. Only it will not be my ship crushed on the rocks of the shore, but your father slicing through my neck with a hangman's noose." He had whispered this to her, his breath blowing her hair though he appeared to looking over her shoulder in case anyone were to take heed of him. "And I am walking right into the trap."

Her bottom lip protruded out. "You are walking into a trap?" she repeated as if his words had been hard to understand. "I dare say you have been pulling me close only to turn and run the other direction since we met."

"For my protection as well as yours," he insisted.

"Speaking of that protection," she said as he stood up with the intention of going upstairs. "My father told you the plan to hold a ball in Elsa's honor."

"Aye, seems he thinks I should be in disguise for it." Killian shot the King a bemused expression before turning his attention back to Emma. "I shall be a prince from tale of it. I am not sure from where, but it should make for an interesting ruse."

Perhaps it was the fact that she had told him of her deepest secret that afternoon that made her feel so light and almost free. Or perhaps it was something else. Either way, she was almost giddy with the new knowledge that Killian was planning to attend the ball. She had wondered if he was going to sway in the direction of the adventure of retrieving the dagger. But he had simply said he would rather be close at hand so that he might protect her. "Maybe we could even dance at the ball?" she asked, a wave of apprehension rolling over her and quickly replaced as she saw delight in his expression.

"I would like nothing more," he admitted without the hint of his own insecurity shining through. She had worried a bit that he might think himself not a good enough dancer or without proper instruction. But he had told her once that his naval career had included such lessons. Then that familiar refrain of doubt crept back into his voice. "But it might not be well received."

"What is to worry about?" she asked. "It is quite proper for a prince to ask a princess to dance."

***AAA***

"You're sure this is a good idea?" David whispered to Snow as they stood watching their daughter follow the Blue Fairy's instructions to remove the block to Regina's powers. "She could turn us all into toads in less than five minutes."

"We won't know until we try," Snow hissed back, smiling again at a proud Robin who watched from the other end of the table. "I do think her concern over Henry is genuine. And I just have to pray she has learned her lesson of restraint when it comes to dark magic."

"I hope you're right," David mumbled back. A king, as with any leader, was only as good as the people he surrounded himself with to succeed. So far in this particular trial, he found himself lacking trust. He had, in addition to his wife, a pirate, a formerly homicidal queen, a thief who had turned nobleman for said queen, some dwarfs, another queen who sometimes lost control of her magical powers and froze things, two aging werewolves, and his daughter who was a bit of a magical novice. It was not the invincible army that he would have hoped to march into battle with the Dark One.

"And can I ask why you are trying to draw the Dark One here by throwing a ball? Don't you realize that takes months to plan, weeks if we really concentrate? And you have this scheduled to happen this week. Half of the society won't make it here in time for it." Snow let her smile fade away momentarily to glower at her husband. She wasn't trying to make it about herself but she had already considered the fact that she did not even have a gown yet made for the event. He would tell her that any in her wardrobe would do, a fact that he could not understand the necessity of uniqueness for such an event.

"Each day that the Dark One stays away has been a blessing, but it is borrowed time. We must capture his dagger and take back the control of this situation."

The process of removing one's magical barriers seemed longer than the spell to bind Regina, but the small crowd that had gathered to watch was patient. It had not escaped David's attention that Killian was watching Emma with an unabashed admiration and almost pride as the blonde princess recited the incantation and moved her hands gracefully through different motions. Much to his dismay, Emma's focus on the task appeared to wane at moments when she locked eyes with the man. Snow had merely rolled her eyes when he pointed that development out to her. "What did you expect?" she said through the clenched teeth of a smile she bestowed upon Elsa. "Our daughter invited the man here. Did you really think she did so simply because he was a good sailor? She has a crush, David."

The very thought made David feel ill, especially when his wife so easily dismissed his fears as ridiculous. She even told him he was silly to think that Killian would not return those same amorous feelings. "She's a beautiful princess, David. Which man with his senses would not be intrigued and smitten by her?"

"I shall have a talk with him," David decided then and there a bit louder than he had meant to be, earning a firm look from Elsa.

"After this mess is dealt with," Snow hissed back. "Emma has enough to worry about with her magic and defeating the Dark One to have to suffer a broken heart at the same time."

The royal couple settled back into the silence of the other observers, appreciating the quiet confidence of their daughter. When she hovered her hands above Regina's wrist, a warm white and almost golden glow emanated from her fingertips and even the usually dour former queen smiled. "There," Emma said somewhat triumphantly. "I think that should do it."

"Do you feel any different?" Robin asked hurriedly. "Do you think it worked?"

"Only one way to find out," Emma said, taking two large steps backwards and folding the paper with the incantation written on it. "Try something."

Regina rubbed her hands together as if trying to warm them. "I think it did work," she said, lacing her fingers together. Extending them out, she drew them back in as if she were going to pitch a ball.

"Something benign and harmless please," David said, drawing a bit of a chuckle from Killian who was watching with an eyebrow cocked and an amused smile on his face.

Regina's sour expression did not change as she stared at her right hand until a ball of fire suddenly appeared. Spinning so quickly that her dress snapped to catch up with her, she threw the fire into the cavernous and cold fireplace behind her. Suddenly it and the room were ablaze in the golden light that outshone the dimmer light of the sun through the thick windows. A conquering grin pierced the woman's face as she turned back to Emma and bowed her head slightly. "It appears that the princess is getting a bit better at following instructions."

"She is fantastic," Elsa said, showing a bit more emotion than normal. Embracing her friend, Elsa whispered to her that she had done the right thing. Just before the group had convened to do so, Emma had wavered a bit in her decision to trust her mother's former stepmother. While not able to offer Emma a firm backing of her decision, Elsa had listened and calmly said that she would be there to weather the storm of whatever happened with Regina.

"Bloody brilliant," Killian echoed from a few feet away as Red nodded emphatically. "Quite a long spell for the effort."

Regina accepted an embrace from her husband before turning to face Emma. "You are doing much better, but you're still an amateur."

"One that managed to return your magic without harming you at all," Emma said haughtily, anger that the woman could not bother to show any sign that she was thankful. "And I haven't heard a word of gratitude yet." Gathering her skirts into her clenched hands, Emma moved past her parents and into the hallway to be joined by Elsa and Killian before the woman had a chance to mutter what the Princess would interpret as an insincere thank you.

"You did the right thing, love," Killian said when he caught up with her. His eyes scanned her face, responding to the insecurity and doubt he clearly saw. "There is no dishonor in acknowledging that you will be stronger for her help in facing the Crocodile, darling."

"Killian's right," Elsa agreed, placing a cold hand on Emma's shoulder. The mere act made Emma jump and stare at her friend. "I'm sorry. I guess I was so worried that this would be a more difficult task that I allowed my emotions to get the better of me." She jerked back her hands. "I'll retrieve my gloves."

The soft way that Elsa walked away was not lost on Emma, who realized she was again alone with Killian. She pushed herself onto the balls of her feet and wound her arms over his shoulders. "Thank you," she said gently. "You always make me feel as though I am in control of my magic."

He knew better, but still his arms coiled around her waist, his forehead dropping to hers. "You are most welcome, love, but I don't believe I had anything to do with that. You are brilliant, a true gift."

It would have not taken much for her to brush her lips against his again, felt the way his mouth yielded to her as if he had been waiting forever for such a gentle movement. However, her parents and others were on the other side of the wall. So she reluctantly pulled her head back, though her fingers remained interlocked at the nape of his neck. "We need to discuss this," she said.

"Aye," he agreed. "I don't think that your father would appreciate my show of appreciation here."

Her head tilted to the right as though she might not have heard him correctly. "Appreciation?"

His eyes shut dramatically and his head lolled back as though he was fighting something. The short hair on the back of his head tickled her locked hands. "Darling, as much as I would love to explain myself and my admiration of you, I think we should not press our luck at the juncture." In a single move, he stepped back from her, his right hand closing around her left forearm and pulling lightly so she let go of him. Before he loosened his grip, he slid his hand to her wrist, bringing her knuckles up to his lips. "But we will have this discussion later."

***AAA***

Even David had to admit that the way Killian sat astride the horse was impressive for someone of common birth. He appeared quite relaxed with the exception of a slight twitch in his finger that gave away his nervous tendency.

"I gather that you have not been this far inland," Robin said, his own grip of the reigns slack. "It's beautiful country."

"I wasn't born at sea, mate," Killian jokingly protested. "I have traveled far and wide in my days." It was not a lie, only an omission of just how many days those were.

The three men had set out just after lunch to scope the route to where the Dark One had hidden his home. Borrowing clothes from some of the staff, the three appeared to be ordinary men out for a hunt. They had even elected to take the horses that were not decorated with the royal insignia so that their cover would not be blown to any who might have come across them.

"How did you come across this map anyway?" Robin asked, trying to fill the silence that seemed to be growing between David and Killian. "My men and I frequented these woods for many years and never heard tale that he was near."

"I employ a man whose sole mission in life is to find the impossible," Killian said. "He was able to procure this map just before the Princess returned home. I was in the process of planning my attack when I received word from her that she was in need of my assistance. Then I learned that our goal was similar so I chose to share it with her." It was an abbreviated version of the truth, but Robin nodded along with agreement.

"A good woman will do that," Robin said knowingly. "She'll always get a man to change his plans or his course of direction. We don't complain though, as making a beautiful woman smile will make us most agreeable to anything." He laughed to himself, trying to drown out the King's uncomfortable sigh. Robin's reaction was to blabber on about his own experiences, something about men named Little John and Will. If he noticed that the King was not listening, he did not seem to mind it.

"And after we succeed?" David asked, his horse falling into synchronized step with Killian's. "Back to pirating? Or do you plan to set up housekeeping some place."

The pirate smirked a bit his hook resting on the saddle horn and his hand gently guiding the reigns of the horse along the path. "I have not settled on that yet," Killian answered, biting the inside of his cheek. It would be easy to say that his thoughts of the future were now consumed with the idea of a blonde princess, but that would not go over well with David. He'd been doing relatively well holding her at bay, but something had made her feel bolder. Her kissing him in front of that pond had practically been his breaking point, her body soft in his arms and her tiny mewls of pleasure making him dream impossible things. He had hoped that he would find himself becoming less interested, but the opposite was true. She was the single most intriguing woman he had ever met. And for some unknown reason, she seemed to be just as intrigued by him. So with that realization came the decline in his defenses. He found himself making comments that only she could hear, finding excuses to touch her, and even imagining a life where he could be the one who made her happy. It made him feel warm and foolish at the same time, giddy and clumsy around her like he was about to say or do the wrong thing. That was not the sort of thing you told a father, let alone a king.

"And these men of yours do what now that you are tied up with the former queen?" Killian asked, hoping to move the topic back to the man most willing to talk. It did work for a moment as Robin explained the Merry Men and their brotherhood.

"Sounds as though they may be of some assistance on this," Killian noted, feeling the swish of the King riding faster and passing him as the path widened out. Thankfully there stood Red and Granny, who had already scouted ahead of them by foot. The two women looked somewhat smug as they held their somewhat tattered cloaks about themselves and smiled pleasantly enough. A basket sat on the crook of Red's arm and the older woman carried with her a sack over her shoulder.

The men dismounted their horses, ground tying them before joining the two women. "Any sight of it?" David asked when Granny criticized the color of his pants as impractical for riding a horse.

"The Captain probably knows better," Red said tilting her head in the general direction of the clearing but look just there beyond the tree line. You can sort of make out the indentation of a structure in the grass."

"Aye," Killian said, taking two steps in that direction. "You certainly can." He felt that familiar drum of pleasure of closing in on his target and prey. The hum of the anticipation was stronger as he stooped to avoid a low hanging branch. Then, just as suddenly as it been there, the electrical shock radiate through his body and threw him backwards toward the group.

"Captain," Robin yelled, trailing behind Red as she kneeled beside the reclined pirate. "Are you alright?" Red was pushing back a bit of Killian's hair, checking for any sign of injury as David stepped closer to the spot where Killian had stood.

"David, are you mad?" Granny yelled at him. Something sent that boy flying like a deranged bird into the underbrush. Your royal status wouldn't keep you from breaking your neck." She pushed the wire glasses up farther on her nose and clicked her tongue on the top of her mouth.

The King turned abruptly. "What the hell is this? Some sort of…"

"Protection spell," Red stated emphatically. She dropped herself to sitting on the ground, pushing her hand lightly on Killian's shoulder as if to scold him. "Hiding his lair isn't enough. He wants to really keep people out."

"Couldn't he have just tried a fence or something?" Robin mused with a quick run of his hand through his hair. "This does seem a bit extreme."

***AAA***

With her tutors Emma had been a studious and serious student, always reading ahead and trying to make sense of the worth with whatever truths they had taught her. Whether studying languages and mathematics or riding and dancing, the Princess had devoured the new information like food. She'd had no other students to bond with over the information. So to study magic under Regina that afternoon seemed a bit odd with Elsa by her side.

Regina was not exactly a natural at teaching, as the former queen lost her patience more often than not. "This isn't a game," she said bitterly to Elsa who had created more snowflakes than fire balls. "What are you hoping? The Dark One will hit a patch of ice and slip?"

Elsa squared off her shoulders, casting a disparaging look on Regina. "I'm quite sure that this type of magic has served you well, but it is not for me. In case you don't realize it, fire and ice rarely produce good results. One always defeats the other."

In a show of sympathy, Emma produced the next ball of fire and ignited the stick that Regina had placed as the target. "Elsa's right. Wouldn't it make more sense for the three of us to have varying powers? It might take him by surprise."

"Princess," Regina said coldly. "Despite what your parents think, there is no surprising the Dark One. He knows all. We must…"

"If there is no surprising him, then there is no point in this," Elsa interrupted. Her dress practically crackled with energy as she whipped around to head to the door. "I'll be in my room."

Before the queen could take another step a large flame erupted and soared by her head, the warmth of it making her porcelain complexion warm and turn pink. The exit to which she had been headed roared with untamed fire and Emma gasped at the sight of her home now becoming engulfed in the flames of Regina's magic. Unfazed by the sight of the inferno, Elsa raised her arms out in front of her, parallel to the floor. Her fingers wiggled slightly as she extended one arm more than the other, creating a semicircle of ice over the arch of the door.

Turning to look at Regina and a horrified Emma, Elsa smirked, knowing exactly what would happen. The ice began to melt at a rapid pace and the water squelched the flames that had blocked her way. Once extinguished the fire had left no signs of damage to the aged wood.

"Our magic is different," Elsa clarified. "One is not better than the other. They simply are at cross purposes." Without waiting for a reply, she continued her regal walk out the door and down the hallway away from her friend and the former queen.

Emma's hands shook as she watched Regina regain her composure. "Elsa's not usually like that," she said, making the excuse. "She's good natured and a bit sullen, but she's never spiteful or rude."

"She is not a concern," Regina said, her lips thinning as she inhaled sharply through her nose. "Let's get back to this, shall we?"

Emma nodded reluctantly, knowing that she needed to be ready for this. "I suppose so."

"You've already proven that you are adept at glamor spells, but what about protective ones?" Her chocolate eyes scanned the room until she found something appropriate. A small wooden box sat on the mantle of the fireplace, a trinket from her parents' honeymoon where David had given his young bride a piece of jewelry in it. "This will do nicely." Slamming it to the center of the table she gestured toward it. "Concentrate on it, Emma. Imagine a dome or lid over it. Your magic must surround it. Protect it from intruders."

Emma felt silly to imagine such things. "I'm not sure," she said hesitantly.

"No," Regina grimaced. "You have to stop doubting. Believe in yourself. Believe you can do it. It is the only way."

 ** _Please let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!_**


	21. Chapter 21

**_I apologize for the delay in this chapter. I got caught up writing my secret santa fic and neglected this. I hope everyone is enjoying family, friends, presents, and love no matter what you do or don't celebrate this time of year. My love to all, especially those who have left such wonderful reviews and feedback._**

Emma had for years wondered what it might be like to be one of the sentry's, perched on the guard stands of stone with bow and arrow at the ready. The thought had seemed quite appealing at times, though she realized it was typically a life of monotony and boredom similar to her own life of court. Sitting there with Regina and listening to the Blue Fairy speak of the intricacies of spells and the moral obligations that came with certain controlling techniques, Emma again wished that she might have been born to a simpler life than that of a princess.

Her eyes wandered, snapping back at the sound of the fairy's impatience or Regina's less subtle reprimand. "It's not as simple as just perfecting the snap of your wrist or the position of your fingers," Regina told her after another failed attempt. "You must truly want to do this. You must find whatever passion you have inside you and direct it toward this. Magic is not something we do without feeling."

Frustration did not even begin to describe what the Princess was feeling, her forehead wrinkled in despair over not yet being able to perform the simple task before her. She waved her hand again, but nothing came of the attempt. "I…"

"Do it again," Regina said in a dull tone. "We're not going to leave until you can do this."

"Maybe if I didn't have you chattering in my ear and the Blue Fairy flying around my head, I could concentrate," Emma said petulantly. "It's too much."

"You've always got excuses," Regina countered. "You're too tired. The weather isn't good. It's too hot. It's too cold. Do you think that when the time comes to confront the Dark One that you'll be in a place with no distractions? He'll be lobbing fire at your head and feet and turning your loved ones into toads. You don't get the perfect situation, Princess."

The Blue Fairy reprimanded the former queen, her haughty nature again shining. However, Regina seemed reluctant to relent.

Emma bit at the corner of her mouth, eyes closing in on the object in front of her. She just barely moved her hand and it worked, the toy block splintering apart as though chopped with an invisible axe. Without a smile of triumph that usually accompanied these moments, Emma threw her hands up in the air and walked a few steps backwards. "I'm done for the day. I have to be fitted for the ball."

The fairy dispensed of herself as normal, promising that she should be back soon for more lessons. However, Regina looked to the late afternoon sky. "They'll be back soon. Perhaps that will better your mood. I know that my mood brightens when I am near Robin, as your mother's does when David is near. So it is not hard to fathom that you might be missing that suitor of yours."

Furrowing her brow a bit more, the Princess stopped in her retreat to look at the woman she might have called grandmother if the circumstances had been more hospitable. She was only a few years older than her mother, still regally beautiful with the carriage and stature of a true queen. "I…"

"Come now," Regina said, ignoring the way Emma's feigned innocence sounded. "We both know that you and the pirate practically pine for each other. He's not truly a fearsome man when you show up in the room. More of a smitten sailor seeing the shore for the first time in months."

Emma's cheeks were practically red as fire as she spoke in a flustered way about how she did not know what Regina was talking about. Killian was just there as a help to her and Elsa, having brought Elsa to the kingdom and both of them safely to the castle. "He's a kind man," she managed to say in the end.

"I'm sure you think so," Regina smirked. "Just know that you aren't truly fooling anyone. Anyone with eyes anyway."

Emma's mouth dropped open and then shut again as she tried to think of what to say. "He's been a good friend to me."

"Yes, well, perhaps we should consider his influence on you. It seems to have helped in some ways to have him about you. Your demeanor and confidence are certainly factors in this whole thing."

"I can do this on my own," Emma said determinedly, her jaw lifting with her words. "I don't need to be encouraged."

"Perhaps not, but it doesn't hurt. And pirate or not, he seems to be just the type to do that for you. And other than your parents, he is assembling quite a group of admirers. From the staff who moon over him as love sick fools to my Henry and Roland. They won't quit talking about this man and his sailing adventures. I'm assured that young Leo is the same way. Not surprising really. There is something intoxicating about a danger that does speak to youth."

"I should go," Emma said, dropping her folded arms as she turned to leave.

"We all have magic," Regina called after her. "Not all of that comes in the form of spells and illusion. Some people are born leaders. That is their magic. Others are talented in the arts. And still others are loyal and kind, blending into the background and supporting us when we don't even realize they are there. Your Captain is a born leader, Emma. He's been leading that crew of his. And I see how he stands beside you and makes you stronger. Just don't forget, Princess, that he is a pirate underneath all that. And don't be misguided enough to think that you can change that."

"He wasn't always," Emma said softly. "He wasn't always a pirate. Just as your husband has not always been a thief."

"Yes, sometimes stories are exceptions not rules. I don't know the pirate's heart, but I see his desire for you. I only caution you that while these feelings and emotions that are stirring between the two of you are wonderfully heady and strong, there is a practical side to it. You will both have to make choices. That's true. Both must sacrifice. But one always sacrifices more than the other, Emma. One will always give up more and accept more responsibility to make things work."

Wordlessly, Emma scampered away from the woman whose words seemed to remind her of just why she should not hope for more with Killian. Though they had not spoken of it, he was sacrificing for her now. He was the one who was pushing her to become what she needed to be to defeat the Dark One. And had she done anything of the kind for him?

***AAA***

"We should stop to rest," David announced just a bit from the gate to the castle grounds. "I dare say we all need the break."

Robin agreed readily, dismounting his horse and heading in the direction of the spring that they had been following for some time. Cupping his hand, he drank a bit of the water before turning his head back to Killian. "Could you use some, mate?"

"I think I'm well enough without it," Killian answered. His handless arm was resting snug against his side, the pain of the blowback still lingering. He was loathe to mention it, but the very thought of dismounting seemed a painful task that he would prefer not to do with the eyes of the King and the reformed thief watching him. "We are close enough now that we should make it back for the evening meal."

Robin agreed, but before he could begin his short walk back to them, the men spotted a flock of quail on the other side of the water. Springing into action with the agility of a fox, Robin hoisted his quiver and bow and was off in search of a treat for his wife.

David cleared his throat, his eyes still inspecting the nondescript leather of the harness and saddle. "For a pirate you don't seem to like being the center of attention. Most pirates I have met have been boastful and proud of their conquests and treasures."

Killian considered that for a moment, knowing that the King was not always direct in his questions. "I would hazard to say that many of the pirates you met were that way. That probably led to the meeting. Arrogance and pride in such things often leads a man to his death either by the sword or by the hanging. I don't relish the thought of either until I get what I have been after."

"Which is?"

"The Dark One's head on a plate," Killian said, his soft tone belying the sinister nature of his words.

"I suppose you do have reason for your lust for vengeance," the King said, looking toward the hook that seemed to define the man in the eyes of so many. "However, I would also say that you have adjusted to the impediment and made it a bit of an asset."

The grimace on Killian's face, as he lifted the hook into view as if he had not seen it, grew from the pressure it placed upon his ribs. "I have had many years to grow accustomed to it."

"Even that first night here," David continued, "we weren't that hospitable with the food we served. Though the menu was already planned and it was not intentional, it could not have been easy for you. Yet there was nary a complaint heard. I should think most men would have complained quite loudly at being almost starved while others ate. Either you have the decorum of a saint or you were set about impressing my daughter."

There it was, Killian thought. David was moving the conversation back to the princess and her ability to see the best in people. "It was your daughter who prevented me from letting the food go to waste," he said, giving a brief account of Emma's covert assistance. "She is a remarkable woman."

While David nodded in agreement, there was a sad resignation to that statement. "Hard to view her as anything but my daughter," he mumbled, pulling himself up to mount again. "We should proceed. Robin has undoubtedly procured dinner for Regina. You see, Captain, the process of impressing our royal women is an unending one."

***AAA***

"I think you have several that might do nicely," Snow said as a few of the maids held up the more formal gowns in Emma's wardrobe. "Something less formfitting might be nice for the occasion." Emma knew what her mother was censoring. A less formfitting dress would ease her movements, making it safer to face down the Dark One.

Emma merely nodded, still a bit moody from the magic lessons and less than enthused to be closing in on the ultimate goal of all of her training. When her mother asked why she did not seem to care about her attire for what was being billed by the town folk as the premier social event of the spring, Emma told her as much.

"We're luring the Dark One to this ball," she said, frowning in such a way that her lips protruded petulantly. "That man can probably destroy the lot of us with a wave of his hand. Does my dress color really matter that much?"

"We're trying to make a show of this," her mother reminded her. "Your dress shouldn't clash with Elsa's since she is the guest of honor. She typically dresses in shades of blue or purple. Is that what she is planning?" Snow was a strategic fighter, a true warrior of spirit, but she had been raised a crown princess and loved the pomp and circumstance of events.

"Red," Emma said, brushing her hand over the stack of gowns there in the room. "I will wear red. It won't clash with Elsa. And Killian will be wearing black." She realized only a moment later that she had said his name. Shocked, she took a step backwards and waited on her mother's lecture.

"I believe he might just at that," the Queen said. "He does seem to appreciate those darker tones." The dark haired woman spread a hand toward the other chair, waiting expectantly as her daughter reluctantly sat. "Now then. What is the matter? You are acting as if I have forced you into some sort of servitude. You are being petulant."

Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, Emma let the mood she was denying settle over her. "I suppose I am being quite difficult," she admitted. "Elsa says I'm being prickly."

"Elsa's always been one to turn a phrase."

Just the night before Emma had felt so light and free at the knowledge that Killian knew of her indiscretions and her child who had been born without the benefit of married parents. She had almost rejoiced in the lack of secrets and moments of mystery and hidden facts. However, she felt heavier now as she sat there. "You and Papa don't really like Killian, do you?"

There was something comforting and lovely about a daughter confiding her thoughts upon her mother. Snow had not had such moments with her own mother, as the woman's death had preceded the time when the current queen even knew her husband. "I suppose your father and I do have a few qualms about his pirating ways, dear. He's not exactly as we would have imagined or pictured for you."

"He's more than that," Emma noted with a slight waver to her voice. "He's very kind and attentive. He…he did so much to assist me when I was boarding at Granny's."

The tinge of pink on her daughter's face told Snow that this man's kindness extended beyond the horse or the wagon. She also knew that her daughter was scared of this. "Perhaps we just don't know him as you do. If he has earned your admiration, he can't be all bad."

"I didn't mean to have feelings for him," Emma protested. "I never meant for that at all. I don't wish to disappoint you or Papa."

The regal expression dropped as Snow watched Emma practically dissolve into tears at the thought of disappointment for her parents. "Emma, you must stop thinking that. Your father and I love you. We don't see you as you seem to think we do. You are beautiful, strong, smart, and a lovely person. Even if you weren't my daughter, I should wish that you were my friend and confidant. And your feelings for the Captain don't change the fact that we will always love and support your decisions."

"My feelings…"

"Yes, your feelings. Your father and I can see that they must run quite deep for you. And whether they are misguided or not is not for us to decide. You must choose that yourself, Emma."

The birds outside were just beginning their evening song, strong and loud against the leaded window panes. "I've been wrong before," Emma admitted sadly. "About Baelfire. I thought he was my true love. But he disappeared. He left me here alone."

"We don't always know the reasons for such things. Perhaps he has some reason that we do not understand. Either way, his love for you and yours for him was true enough for the time you were together. And the loss of it should not mean that your life is over and the possibility of love is gone from your life. You deserve a happy ending, Emma. And that must begin with the hope that it exists for you."

As a child Emma had crawled into bed with her mother on the nights when David had been off with his soldiers. Her mother would weave tales about being a bandit and finding true love with a prince. She would always tell her daughter of a belief in fate and that hope was the one and only tenant that had kept her strong when life appeared to be conspiring against her. While a bit awkward, Emma had to admit that this was something she had missed with her mother.

"I like this," she admitted. "It's been a long time since we have had this."

"Yes, it has," the Queen echoed. "Emma, I hope you know that no matter what you decide to do in your life that your father and I do support you. And if this pirate is the man you love, I should hope that you give us the opportunity to know him too."

"He's a bit like Papa," Emma said, her shoulders and posture relaxing as she spoke. "He's brave a determined. He makes me laugh and smile."

"And you him?"

"I hope so. I truly hope so."

The Queen stood from her seat and began to shift through some of the thick fabric before her. She seemed to be doing a silent inventory of it, her nose crinkling at some of the more distasteful selections. "I don't know that I can offer any insight into the Captain's psyche, but I do recognize a few telltale signs. The way he looks upon you when your attention is diverted and the way he lights up when he speaks of you are both good signs of his interest. And his presence here, as well as the map would indicate that he is not merely admiring your beauty."

"Elsa offered to pay him for couriering her here to the shores of Mist Haven," Emma confided. "He refused, saying that he was doing it as a favor to me."

"Another very hopeful sign," her mother said, lips turning upward. "I should think that you would want to look your best for him. He will be certainly alert and aware of you at the ball, no matter the reason for its occurrence."

Emma stood to join her mother, her own fingers running over the rich fabrics. "I wouldn't put too much thought into it," she said softly. "He seems to think it impossible that a man such as himself might gain my affections. He has said a few times now that he does not find himself worthy and that he does not wish to cause problems with you, Papa, or the kingdom."

"He sounds as though he is a smart man to care so much about making your life easier," Snow said knowingly. "But you disagree about his worthiness? You do not find him lacking in breeding and station?"

"He was a naval officer and…And none of the titles mean as much to me. Baelfire was not of noble blood either. I have never…"

"You have never set much stock in it," her mother finished for her. "You get that from your father. He was not born of nobility and has never truly seen its purpose."

***AAA***

Snow and Emma spent a good hour going through dresses and discussing what they would both be wearing to the event, sharing their ideas with Elsa who readily lent her own tastes. It felt as if it was Emma's first chance to go to such an affair all over again as the three women tried desperately to forget talk of magic and daggers for something lighter. It was nearly dark when one of the attendants came to alert Snow that her husband and the others had returned. Sharing a sly look with her daughter, she linked her arms with both blonde women and suggested that they meet the men downstairs.

"You will give her another chance?" Snow asked Elsa as they descended the stairs. "I know her methods are not conventionally warm and fuzzy, but she is powerful. You…"

"I could stand to learn a few things from her," the other Queen said with some reluctance. Looking over Snow's head, she winked at Emma. "I suppose I could learn from her. Though I don't know that it is good to combine fire and ice."

"Speaking of ice," Snow continued, ignoring the obvious slight. "I was thinking that it is not good that we have kept the boys locked up within the walls of the castle and garden. Do you think it possible that you might make a bit of a winter wonderland for them? Leo does adore skating and I think Roland and Henry might too."

Emma's eyes brightened at the suggestion. "Oh Elsa! That would be so much fun. Don't you remember right after your sister's birthday party? We had races and those two young men from that awful kingdom couldn't keep up with us."

Smiling her small grin of approval, Elsa gave a curt nod of her head. "Perhaps that should be your lesson tomorrow, Emma. You can practice your ice magic."

"You'll surely be a better teacher than Regina," Emma answered bitterly. "I doubt you will be insulting."

"I also tend to dress my age," Elsa added, looking none too chagrinned over the insult.

"Girls, please," Snow mandated from her spot between them. "Regina means well."

There might have been more argument had David, Killian, and Robin not entered the hall at that point. Elsa greeted them with a tip of her head, but Emma could not miss the grimace on Killian's features. His handless arm was folded next to his side and each step and slight movement made his skin grow paler and the lines about his mouth deepen. She gave a courtesy bow to her father before rushing to the pirate's side.

"Is he alright?" she demanded, receiving no answer before she turned to face him. "Are you injured?"

"A bit sore is all," he said, attempting to cover his fate with a grin. "Fell on my back such that I'll be feeling it tomorrow."

Her frown was even more pronounced than his as Robin explained the shielding spell and the way that it sent Killian reeling. David was unusually quiet, pulling his wife into his own side for a hug and then standing back as his daughter fretted. "Magic did this?" she asked incredulously. "You were struck by magic and you weren't going to tell me?"

"No, love, I was injured by the fall not the magic. And I shall be fine, not to worry."

"I've seen worse injuries from men falling from horses," Robin agreed, removing his riding gloves and handing off the quail he had procured to the scullery maid who stood there to collect it. "He'll need some rest, but should be better in a few days' time."

"No need to worry, lass," Killian agreed, drawing in a sharp breath when a stinging sensation hit from a sudden movement. "I will be right as rain before the ball."

"Speaking of the ball," Emma's mother said a bit loudly. "I have found what you should wear David. I believe that Regina has chosen something for Robin as well." She ushered the two men from the room, smiling to herself when she heard Elsa mention looking for a spot for the surprise they were cooking up for the boys.

Killian's laugh was not as rich with his injury, but he managed a bit of mirth at the woman's not so covert way of leaving her daughter alone with him. "And what of you, Emma? Did you select a tunic for me or am I to be left to my own devices?"

"That is something wives do for their husbands," she admonished. "Besides, I thought you would prefer to choose your own."

His expression suddenly turned grim with an unspoken issue. "I would not wish to embarrass you with the wrong choice, Emma. And I should think you might wish to know its color."

"It sounds as though you have not picked your attire as of yet so I'll tell you of mine. I will be wearing red." Her smile depicted an ease that did not agree with the turmoil she felt when looking upon his pained expression. "Let's see about healing you first. Off with your jacket."

Though suspicious and a bit amused by her words, he attempted to shrug out of jacket. However, the pain from his left flank seared through him, his face contorting with the force of it. "I'm afraid that is a bit much to ask of me at the moment."

"I could send for Doc," she said, her hand reaching up with fingers trailing along his jaw. "He's not a real medical person, but he's as close as we have at hand. I could see if someone…"

"Love, I'm fine. It smarts a bit, but there is no irreparable harm. I assure you." He tugged at his coat again, ignoring the tearing feeling and allowing it to limply fall. He wasn't sure if his gasp was from the effort or from her gently lifting his left arm and running a hand along the seam of his shirt.

"They could be broken," she said, "bruised at least."

"Aye, that was my own diagnosis as well."

She did not lift her eyes to meet his, instead staring intently at the wounded area. Her hand seemed to float above it, hovering with warm tendrils of heat emanating from her skin. "Regina has been training me. One of the lessons today was about destroying something and then putting it back together. I gather that the latter of that is healing. I could try." His silence spoke volumes to her as she blew out a puff of air to send an errant curl away from her eyes. "I understand if you'd rather I didn't. You have no reason to trust me or my ability to do this."

He faltered in that moment of silence, cursing himself for having added to her doubt. "Of course I trust you, love," he said with genuine affection. "No one but you."

Without hesitation, she closed her eyes, trying, as Regina had instructed, focusing on the idea of his ribs melding together into a strong bond. Her fingers wiggled with the energy coursing through them, a whitish glow shooting out from her hand and burning her still closed eyes. She could not see his eyes, but they were locked on her face, admiring the way she took this so seriously. Just as abruptly as the light had shone, it disappeared. "Better?"

"Perfect, love," he said lifting his own hand to run along the spot that had been so painful. "Amazing."

"I'm glad that I did it correctly," she admitted shyly. "I wouldn't want to break you a part into pieces as I did the block."

"I have no doubt that you can do whatever you set about doing," he told her, dragging her hand back to his side so that she could inspect her own handiwork. "I have never though you any less than brilliant. And I assure you that I am a survivor. No fall or spell is going to keep me from living."

"Good," she said firmly. "I would hate to have to pick out your tunic only for you not to attend the ball. I was counting on that dance."


	22. Chapter 22

**_I could give you a list of excuses why I have not updated recently, but I'm sure you all know that life, a cold that travels through the house for days, work schedules that stink, holidays, deep thoughts about future plans, etc., can get in the way. However, all I can say is sorry and that I will try to do better. Here is a long chapter for you with plenty of Captain Swan and a little Snowing. Enjoy!_**

Granny Lucas hated the heat of the kitchen during the summer, complaining that if she wanted to be in an oven she would have been born a piece of venison. However, it was hard to keep her out of the way of the cooks and maids whose jobs depended on the food preparation. This was a constant battle for Snow and Red, who continually reminded her that she was not there to work.

"You're my guest," Snow told her that next morning before breakfast was being served. "I didn't have you come here because I enjoy your sweet cakes and marmalade. I wanted…"

"You wanted Red and her tracking skills," the older woman finished for her. "I'm old, not stupid. Red is still young and spry enough that she can be of service to you. Yet you forget that I taught her everything that I know. I've been living this way for decades longer."

"Nobody is forgetting your contributions or devaluing you, Granny," Snow argued. There were few people willing to stand up to the Queen, but the Widow Lucas was certainly one. Snow readily admitted that her interactions with the woman made her feel quite a bit younger. "I only meant that perhaps you would like to take things a bit easier. You needn't pluck the chickens, poach the eggs, and knead the bread dough. We need you for strategy and planning more than domestic duties."

It was clear that Granny had been working already that morning. Her patterned apron rode on her hips and a bit of flour was seen on her cheeks. "You haven't been much for listening as of late."

"Then I apologize," Snow said, remembering that her mother had taught her that humility was one of the cornerstones of great leadership. "If I promise to listen now, might I ask what you have to share."

Granny pushed the wire glasses up her nose and frowned. "You'll not ask anything until I'm done? I can't abide by interruptions."

The Queen pressed one delicate hand to her pursed lips and then the other as if to gesture to her silence. However, Granny was not satisfied, tugging the Queen's arm and dragging her into the pantry used for dried items such as beans and grains.

"Red was so busy with that Graham fellow that I took it upon myself to do a bit of investigating. I figured that the Dark One must not live alone. Despite his absolute power and magic, the man is in need of some help in running his household. Mundane things are rarely the interest of the rich or powerful, which I assume would be the same of a man such as him."

"You're rambling," Snow asserted, knowing that the staff milling about would eventually come closer and hear them.

"The Dark One has food and supplies delivered to a spot just outside the purview of this shield or what you should wish to call it. Last night I hung back and watched at a young man dropped them off and then ran as though scared of what he might see. A beautiful young woman emerged from nowhere and carried the box back. She seems to work for the Dark One."

That revelation was news to Snow, who considered the possibilities. "Did she seem…"

"I know nothing of her," Granny quickly said. "I only saw her from a distance and didn't wish to get too close. "But I was thinking that perhaps this news might be of some assistance to us in getting into his lair."

***AAA***

Emma gathered the papers from the old book that was falling apart, stacking them neatly as she heard the heavy footsteps behind her. She knew that her father and Graham had headed out to inspect some of the walls that circled the palace grounds, a practice they performed each season before making a decision about where to place resources for repairs. Robin had offered to ride with them, which only proved that he was glutton for punishment of desperate for he and Regina to really be accepted.

"You didn't join them?" she asked as he approached and stood a few steps behind her. "I thought you might."

"Didn't wish to incur injury again," he answered. "Your father actually suggested that I continue my convalescence here so that I might be in fine shape for the ball."

Finally turning away from the table that had been used more since Regina's arrival than any time in recent memory, Emma tilted her head to regard him. He looked to be well, his leather and silk fitting snugly against his muscular form. It gave her a moment to let her eyes linger. "I had meant to fully heal you," she said, sounding disappointed. "Did I not?"

"You did," he assured her, smiling at her kindness and concern. "I only used it as an excuse not to be bored with the daily trials and tribulations of running a kingdom. I have a ship that I must run in a similar manner. I don't need to prove myself at doing the same on land."

She fully understood his words, but something about them made her sad. "You must miss your ship," she said finally. "It is your home."

"Aye, she has been my home for many years. I would be loathe to leave her for any true length of time."

Feeling a heaviness settle into her stomach, she swallowed. "I know that you must," she said, sadness creeping into her voice. "When you wrote me, you would speak of such love for your ship and the sea that…that I could tell how much you must care for both. I should think that most people care for others in the way that you care for such items." When her eyes dropped at that, she worried that she might sound too needy for him to assure her that he was content there with her. Perhaps it was a bit of reassurance that would be premature, but there was a part of her that wished to hear it because she already knew that his leaving again would be even more unbearable.

"It is hard not to love that which brings you such joy," he explained, the tenderness beguiling the severe nature of his appearance. "But if you are asking if I am content staying here, I will admit the accommodations are more luxurious compared to the Jolly and your company more pleasant than that of Mr. Smee."

Her soft laugh seemed to encourage him. "You always know what to say," she told him. "I sometimes wonder if you might have a bit of magic inside you that allows you to read my mind and know what I need to hear."

His reply was drowned out by the clambering of three young boys pouring into the library with Leo leading the way on some search. Used to his sister's presence, Leo barely paid any attention to her or Killian as his eyes focused in on a lower shelf where the book he was looking for was located. Roland was nipping at his heels, dark mop of hair falling into his eyes. However, Henry stopped, looking shyly at Emma first and then Killian.

"Good morning," she said brightly, hoping to alleviate the trepidation she still felt when she looked at him. That seemed the right invitation for him as he smiled up at her. "I hear you are to go skating today."

Henry nodded, throwing himself into an explanation of how he had never done that before and neither had his brother. Emma's face showed interest, as though his story was enthralling for her. The tightness of her corset did not go unnoticed as she stooped down to his level, telling him of the fun she had skating as a child with Elsa on that very pond during a visit.

The whole idea that Emma, the grown woman before him, could have once been a child was beyond comprehension for the young boy. He regarded it as something magical and quite enchanting. Like in most conversations, his eyes flitted over toward Killian with some wonder. "Will you skate with us?"

Emma could have laughed at the way the pirate was taken aback by the simple question. She allowed him only a few seconds of sputtering response before leaping to his rescue. "I think he may have other things to do. He's not a child. He has responsibilities." With a lean in toward the young boy as if she wanted to confide in him, she looked up at Killian. "Perhaps he might go another time."

Henry and his brother Roland both appeared crestfallen at the news, while Leo was preparing to argue the virtues of skating on a magically frozen pond. However, Killian mimicked Emma's kneeling position, his hand braced on the back of a chair. "I would love to, but I'm afraid that is not a talent I possess. I have never had the opportunity to skate."

"Emma could teach you," Henry suggested with the vehement nod of Roland. "The Queen said she is quite good at it." Leo echoed this, continuing on with the story of Elsa, Anna, and Emma's adventures on ice.

"If the Princess should have time to teach me, I might just have to give it a go," Killian answered seriously. While he scratched at his stubble covered chin, he let his eyes dance a bit. "Do you believe her strong enough to catch me should I take a tumble?"

The rosiness of Emma's cheeks grew brighter. "I think I should be able to handle it, Captain. Only if you can."

***AAA***

Leo complained loudly that he must finish his daily lessons before being sent off to join the others, but Elsa promised him that if he did so with accuracy that he would miss nothing other. She kept to her word, working diligently with Emma to develop the Princess's ability to freeze and create ice magic of her own. Henry and Roland were delighted to watch this magical trick, unaware of the purpose of teaching the young blonde woman. Sitting on either side of the pirate, they cheered unabashedly and called out to her what they wished to see her freeze next.

"It seems quite impossible given the warmness of the day," Killian remarked when Emma asked if he should like to see snowflakes too. "But I have little doubt that you would be the one to prove me wrong, love."

"She can do anything," Henry said with deep admiration, his arms hugged around his legs as he waited.

"Aye, she can," Killian agreed quickly. Shading his eyes with is lone hand, he watched the glow around Emma as she succeeded in the task that Queen Elsa had assigned. Her soft golden hair was almost as white as Elsa's in the sun and her long fingers seemed to radiate with the energy of the deed. While she appeared tough and strong in her efforts, he could not help but marvel at the softness and beauty within. "She may even be able to teach this old pirate a few things."

Henry twisted at the waist to face the man beside him. "You aren't old," he protested. "You're…you're…" He groped for the words.

Roland was quick to aid him. "You're no older than Granny," he offered with a helpful tone.

Swallowing back a laugh, Killian saw that the young boys were not quite so sure of themselves in terms of ages. However, they could certainly compare them. "It is not good form to judge a woman by her age or lay reference to it," he told them. "It is better that a lass keep such information to herself."

Nodding in agreement, Roland turned his brown eyes to the two women freezing the pond. "Papa says that you can do no better than to compliment a woman's beauty and…." He was clearly reciting a well told piece of advice but could not remember its ending.

"And her intelligence," Henry supplied, sounding out the word carefully. "What does that mean though?"

"Your papa sounds like a smart man," Killian said after explaining the term, "very intelligent." The boys continued to entertain him with their observations, questions, and stories, each playing off the other with incredible timing. He had seen performers with less ability in that arena, but these two were perfectly suited. It reminded him a bit of his own relationship with his brother, long ago before all had been spoiled and ruined by the darkness of the realm.

Leo's arrival to join them was the only thing that pulled Henry and Roland from each other, both eager to prove themselves in front of their slightly older friend. Emma and Elsa placed the sharp blades on each of them, pulling them to standing and giving a few instructions.

"Don't skate out any farther than that rock there," Emma told her brother warningly. "Our time is limited and we don't have but the surface here frozen. So no hijinks, brother."

Leo was a bit solemn as he grasped the hand of Henry to pull him along and Elsa doing the same with Roland who was less sure footed than the others. Emma spun gracefully to face Killian, who like the children had been relegated to sitting upon the log nearby to have his boots fitted with skating blades. She giggled amusedly, offering him a hand that he ignored for a moment.

"I may have underestimated my bravery, love," he said, three lines appearing at the bridge of his nose. "I am always at home on the water, but I prefer it in its liquid state."

"You trust me?"

The sun was blazing behind her head, giving an almost halo glow to her as he looked up blinking at her. "Aye, implicitly."

"Then give me your hand, Captain. It is high time that you learned to skate." She knew that he had probably been on such contraptions before in his childhood, but hated the idea of appearing lacking before her. Still there was not judgment in her mocking tone, only a playfulness that even a hardened soul could not fully resist. She wiggled her fingers impatiently until he consented to her and linked their hands together.

Like most novices, he attempted to walk on the ice, ignoring the ability to glide on the thin edge of the blade. His steps were clumsy, but Emma allowed them so that his confidence at being on the ice might increase. When he stumbled, as they both knew that he would, she threw herself to that side and held him up to prevent true injury. He chuckled with a modicum of embarrassment. "Sorry, love."

"What do you have to apologize for, Killian? You have surely not had many opportunities to do this since childhood." She shrugged, using their nearness to rest her head upon his shoulder. "I might have some worries about you if you were to tell me that you and your crew were spending your free time on the ice."

Again his laugh rang out against the frozen pond. "I should think you know me better than that, love. I have spent the majority of my seafaring days avoiding the hazards of ice. You may see this as a beautiful and peaceful pastime, but I do not. It is a wasteland and hazard to all who might which to traverse it on anything other than these blasted skates."

She looked out at the way the sun shone off of the ice, glares of light and rainbow effects littering the surface of it. "If you do not enjoy it, why did you agree to come?" One might have mistaken her frown for more of a pout as she waited on him to explain.

"I did not say it was unenjoyable," he clarified, clinging to her hand a bit more as he followed her earlier directions to glide more than step. "A man would be a fool to take exception with an opportunity to hold the hand of a beautiful lass."

She did not respond right away as she did so often when he attempted to woo her with flirtatious banter, instead considering it as though he was being forthright. "That's half of it," she said, still clutching firmly to his hand and studying the way his feet moved. "Lean back into it."

"Half of what?" he asked, his footing insecure on the slippery ice.

"I heard you and the boys discussing how best to compliment a woman," she said with a shrug, making him even more insecure as he was relying on her steadiness too. "Shouldn't you have added in something about my mind?"

He yanked back on her arm, throwing her a bit but she recovered quickly. "You should never have to fish for compliments, Emma. Men should offer them to you freely and without pretense of anything other than wishing to pay homage to you. For you are both beautiful and beyond compare with the abilities and knowledge of her mind." He smiled tentatively as he gasped, unsure if it was his words that might leave her breathless or the way he had almost tipped over. "Though I much prefer complimenting you with two solid feet on the ground."

She smiled playfully, noting that the others were at the other end of the area created for skating. "I kind of like this with you," she confessed. "You off balance and groping."

Taking her at her word, he tucked her against his side as they attempted the arduous job of turning around to skate in the other direction. "I admit it is a fine excuse for being able to hold onto you, Princess. Perhaps we should find more of these activities that allow such close company."

"I know I should not be, but I almost grateful to the Dark One for being such a threat. If not, we would be writing each other letters today rather than skating." It was a bold confession for a princess, but it gained no reaction as Killian abruptly tumbled to the ground. Landing with a loud grunt, he pulled himself into Emma's direction as she toppled after him so that he might cushion her fall. "You're not a very good pillow."

"If I eat as I have been at the palace, I shall become as plump and soft as one of the goose feather ones on the bed." He laughed as her hand splayed over his chest as she pushed him backward. Her dress was a thick fabric of dark purple and seemed to guard against the cold of the ice very well. She did not immediately lift herself from him, her blonde hair cascading down like a curtain.

"If we were not here," she said after signaling to Elsa that they were alright, "where would you think we would be? If I were not obligated…"

"I should think that had you been who I assumed when I first met you, I would have tried to woo you with a drink and dinner at Granny's pub. I would have watched your lovely face in the glow of the candles to see if my charm was making any headway with you." He shifted a bit, the cold seeping through the seat of his pants. "I would have walked with you among the trees at the start of the forest and hoped for the opportunity to hold your hand in mine as we looked up at the stars."

"Quite romantic," she answered a bit breathlessly. "Do you think you would have succeeded?"

"I would have hoped." His face appeared younger, almost softer as he watched her consider this. "I would also have hoped that I might be rewarded with a kiss."

"You have already received a few of those," she answered brazenly. "And perhaps earned a few more."

"Is that so, Princess? I fear I cannot kiss you here with the ice freezing us to its surface and with chaperones watching our every move. The Queen Elsa is a good friend to you, but she suspect my nefarious intentions." His eyebrows raised and lowered as she giggled so loudly that Elsa and the boys looked in their direction.

"Perhaps we should stand before you catch your death of cold and leave me without a partner for tomorrow night's ball," she said, pushing up with much less trouble or clumsiness than he displayed. She offered her hand to pull him up alongside her. "Do you have plans tonight?" she asked suddenly, both hands now closed over his.

"I suppose dinner with your family and friends if you so request it," he said, barely hiding his curiosity and dislike for the formal affairs of the palace. "Is that what you meant, love?"

"No," she said, bending to scoop a bit of the snow that was already beginning to melt in the midday sun. "Tell my family that you have caught a chill from today and wish to retire early. I'll take care of the rest, pirate." She pressed the icy snow to his chest with a laugh and scampered away to join the others.

***AAA***

Snow greeted her husband with a distracted kiss that he immediately called out as different than normal. Her chagrinned expression was contrite as she apologized to him, placing her lips against his again. "How was your ride? Is all well in the kingdom?"

"As much as can be expected." Clasping his hands together at the small of her back, he pulled her forward into him. "All the talk is of the ball and the couples planning to attend."

"I know that you hate these things," she countered. "You pout more than Emma and Leo combined when I send you off to see the tailor."

"Dreadful experience," he said with a little shudder of his upper body. "Speaking of our lovely daughter. I did not see her in the room with Regina. Don't tell me that she is already finding herself at odds with your stepmother."

"She is in the company of Elsa," Snow explained, her palm feeling the beat of her husband's heart. The steady rhythm still brought her comfort like no other. "They froze over the pond to offer the boys a bit of fun skating and whatnot." She had not joined them, wanting to spend a bit more time with Red and Granny before the ball commenced. The older woman had given her much to think about in their efforts.

"And I'm sure that the captain was first in line to join them," the King lamented sourly. "I realize that you said it is merely a girlhood crush, but Emma is a woman now and the way he stares at her is nothing that a father wishes to see."

Snow bit at her lower lip as David disentangled himself from her and began removing the outer layers of his clothing. She had not had protective parent when she had found her true love. Her father and mother were both dead at that time, her concentration focused on escaping Regina. There had been no one to fully confide her fears and desires in other than Red, who had her own issues to deal with at the time. She had navigated through the maze of love without that steadying hand and knowledgeable advice. She had followed her heart, something she did not regret at all, but sometimes she wondered what her parents would have thought of her husband. Would they have found him a good match for her, been proud of the things they accomplished? Or would they have been distrustful of a shepherd masquerading as a prince? She had at least met Ruth, David's mother, and gained her approval.

"We shall discuss the affairs of our daughter's heart later," she said, her tone soothing as she nodded approval for the tunic he was planning to change into for the late afternoon. "I assure you that I am keeping a watchful eye. While you may not appreciate the captain for who he is, our daughter has never seemed happier. That should count for something."

Her husband looked troubled as he sat down on the bench at the foot of the bed. Emma had been the kind of daughter one dreamed about before the challenges with Baelfire and her lost son had hardened her heart. Her voice would ring out in demand for her father, a sound he often told his wife was the best ever. She had wanted to be just like him, following him on his drills and practices, begging to handle a sword before her time. When she had told them that she was in love with Baelfire, he had been disappointed. The man had seemed quite in love with his daughter, but there was something missing from the mix for the King. He had hoped to see his daughter so radiantly in love as Snow and he were, but she wasn't. "I should hope our daughter would have better tastes than that rapscallion."

Snow patted his arm consolingly. "You don't like him."

"He is not my first choice," he said somewhat resolutely. "But he is not as bad as most pirates I have had the misfortune of meeting. Still, I'm not sure that I could ever approve of him for our daughter. Frankly it troubles me that you might consider otherwise. Besides I thought we were not speaking of this."

"Of course. I only meant to ensure that you won't make a scene over his attentions toward Emma at the ball tomorrow night. He is attending and I have little doubt they will at least share a dance or two. It might be a nice opportunity for her, given that we do expect the Dark One to appear at this event."

"And perhaps she can share a dance with her papa."

***AAA***

"It is just a touch of a headache," Emma said, her voice shakingly weak as her mother pressed the cool cloth to her head. "I only wish to go to bed early and not worsen it with the voices of everyone tonight." Darting her tongue out to wet her lips, Emma hoped that her mother would soon take her leave.

Snow brushed off the assistance of one of the servants to fold the blanket over her daughter. "And Killian is ill as well. Has anyone checked on Elsa or the boys. I knew this whole idea of freezing the pond and skating was foolish." The tip of her tongue clicked across the top of her mouth.

"I'm fine," Elsa said from the doorway. "The cold has never bothered me and the boys stayed upright on their legs unlike the pirate and Emma. I'm sure with a bit of rest they will be fine."

"Mother, you needn't worry," Emma said, offering her best and most humble smile. "I will be well by morning. And you've got company to entertain. Philip and Aurora have arrived. And I heard that…"

"Yes, yes," her mother said distractedly. "You are probably quite lucky to be ill. I know I'd far rather curl up with a good book than play hostess to a palace full of royal lineage." She gathered the thick material of her outer skirt and removed herself from the foot of Emma's bed. "I could send up Heather with a bit of broth. That might help."

Emma nearly screamed in frustration as her mother did not move from the spot. "No need for that, mother," she insisted, trying to sound thankful yet not desperate. "It is my head, not my stomach that aches."

Feeling sorry for her friend's fake display of illness, Elsa pursed her lips and then led the other Queen from the room with the promise that she would certainly check in on Emma later. As they had done as younger girls, Emma counted to 100 before she redressed and snuck out through one of the passages to the guest quarters. If she had more time she might have watched Killian pacing in the small corridor between his room and the music chamber. He appeared both agitated and annoyed as she came up behind him, calling out his name and giggling when he jumped from shock.

"I hardly think that you should be skulking about when you are supposed to be too sick to greet your guests," he mockingly chastised her. "Quite unfitting of a princess."

"Would you rather mock me than learn what I have planned?" Her voice was low, eyes darted to the darkening corners as if someone might intrude on the private moment. "I have a good idea." She took another step toward him, leaning closer to share her secret. "We're going to go to the pub nearby."

"Are we indeed?" He sounded as he had when speaking to Henry and Roland earlier, placating her rather than fully buying into her offer. "And the Princess does this often?"

Huffing indignantly, Emma folded her arms over the plain dress that she had put on that evening. It would not have been considered a work dress by anyone outside of the palace, but it was one of the plainest that she owned. There was only one layer of lace rather than two or more around the collar and sleeves, the buttons less ornate. Still it was molded to her body as if a second skin around bodice and flounced outward from her waist into waterfalls of material. "The Princess," she said, emphasizing her disdain for the title at that moment, "rarely has the opportunity, but Emma would like an evening away from the court, her family, and the others."

He chuckled lowly as she fastened the rather plain cloak around her neck. "And that is supposed to hide your identity?"

Nonplussed by his lack of understanding or faith, she touched his arm. "I want to have this moment with you, please. I can hide in plain sight if you would allow it?"

Speechless, he nodded his head with a slight bob and watched as waved her hand between them. It was an almost insignificant wiggle of her hand that brought about no major change other than a charge in the air that he couldn't quite explain. If anything she seemed proud and maybe a little amused at his confusion. Beckoning him to the large mirror on the wall between two banners with the royal crest, Emma let his eyes settle over the reflected image of the two of them. He staggered backward in shock. "But you don't look…"

"It's a spell," she said as if discussing a more mundane topic. "A glamor spell that changes how we appear to the outside world. This way I am not the Princess and you are not the infamous pirate captain who would be wanted by the guard under normal circumstances."

"But when I look at you, I only see you. Is the spell not working?"

She grinned. "That's why I showed you the mirror. You see me no matter the spell or ruse. The outside world does not."

Taken aback by both the spell's effect and her boldness at going to such lengths, Killian put up little argument as she grinned and pulled him along toward a little used exit. The marvel of her ingenuity and desire was enough to keep him wondering what it was that she might see in him to include him in her plans. When he asked her just that question she laughed it off.

"Perhaps I appreciated your idea of wooing me over a drink of ale," she quipped. "And perhaps I thought that best done without the trappings of guards and chaperones that accompany a princess normally."

"You do not care for those trappings much, do you?" he asked as they slipped past the guard houses with no trouble. There were so many people coming and going in preparation for the ball that two seemingly nondescript travelers seemed normal.

"I don't know of life without them," she confessed as they followed the path of the creek toward the village closest to the palace's protective walls. "My parents have allowed me my freedom the best they could. Papa has taken me on trips with him, allowed me to hunt, taught me to fight, and never relegated me to the background because I am a girl…woman. My mother has taught me too. She is an expert tracker and would take me out into the woods to find what she had hidden. She is near deadly with a bow and arrow, a skill that she insisted I learn as well."

"And yet you…"

"You don't see past them," she interrupted. "When you first saw me near Granny's that day, you saw a woman without all that. I only wish sometimes that you did not limit or censor yourself because you think of me only as a royal."

He hesitated, weighing her accusation. "You think that I don't truly see you."

"Why are you here at the palace?" she asked suddenly. "Why not just go after the Dark One yourself? You are clearly stifled by my father's plans, Regina's lack of trust, my mother's disdain for pirates. You tell me that I am out of reach for you because of my station in life, but yet you look at me and kiss me as though there is a possibility of something more for us – something real." She paused her words though she kept moving along the path. Swallowing, she dipped her head so that she did not have to see the soft concern already forming in his expression. "When you said that you would have tried to woo me over a pint at Granny's, I thought…I thought maybe that we could have a moment where I was just Emma and you were just Killian. Where there wasn't a Dark One or a kingdom to concern us." So carried away at her speech to him, she did not notice the way that the color had risen to his cheeks or the shallowness of his breath. Instead she focused on his silence.

His lack of a response immediately made her blush at being so honest with him, and she considered turning and retreating back to the castle. However, she was surprised again as he fell in step beside her. "I should like to share a drink with a beautiful lass such as yourself, Emma," he said. "And so that it is said before we shed our roles for the evening, I am here for you. It is not some obligation that I feel toward the crown or because of a special request of someone in your position. I am here because, you, Emma, requested my assistance. I am here because I believe myself to be of service to you and hope to be a part of something more than a plan for vengeance over an old hurt that has festered and infected my life for far too long. I am here because a beautiful, fiery lass so requested me and I have yet the nerve or desire to leave."

Taking the chance, she stopped her steps and peered up at him, moonlight offering the only light around them at the moment. She saw the heart rending tenderness of his gaze and felt the eager affection as his hand reached out on its own accord to graze his knuckles along her cheek. Every time her gaze met his, her heart turned over in response. "I like having you here," she admitted in a whisper she wasn't sure he heard until his lips turned upward again and there was a flash of white with his teeth.

"I would stay at your side until you tire of me, love," he said, his voice low and barely discernable over the thudding of her heart in her ears. "I may question the sanity of a princess wishing to spend time with a pirate, but I will not deny that I am flattered and enamored by her." He made no attempt to hide the way his eyes traced over her. "And I may hang at your father's hand for this, but I would never wish you to think I am less than enamored with you."

He swept her, weightless, into his arms, whispering into her hair that he was grateful for her ingenuity and the lack of chaperones and an audience to keep an eye on her virtue. Gathering her into his arms, he held her snugly against him, her soft curves molding into the contours of his body. She was made aware of their closeness, a jolt surging through her as his thigh brushed against the angle of her hip and her lashes fluttered against the lines of his neck. With no desire to back out of his embrace, she allowed him to hold her and sank into the closeness as though she belonged there.

As the hold he had over her became more of comfort than passion, she felt his hand guide her head back, tilting her just so. Her calm was shattered by the fervent touch of his mouth to hers, his tongue tracing the fullness of her lips. There was a hunger to his kiss that they had not experienced before, a freedom that came from their seclusion. His mouth moved over hers, leaving her blood singing in her veins as he maneuvered thoughtfully and slowly despite obvious desire.

She felt every muscle in her tighten as his mouth left hers, his lips searing a path down her neck as her cloak was pushed off of her shoulders. Since she was the one with two hands, she knew she must have loosened the tie, but she was lacking the memory of doing so. Burying his face into her neck, exposed by the way she threw back her head, his breath was warm against her as he explored the ivory flesh there.

They might have stayed in that intimate embrace longer had a cloud not covered and then uncovered the moon. He pulled back from her, reluctant and sheepish. "I forget myself when I am with you, love," he said, recapturing her lips and losing the rest of what he had thought to say.

"And I with you," she said against his kiss. "I with you."

 ** _To be continued…Next Chapter is a BIG One in this Story!_**


	23. Chapter 23

**_It's almost time for the showdown. I originally had it for this chapter, but felt it was too much with the other things going on. So…expect the showdown next chapter._**

Candle and lantern light glowed from the windows of the pub, a soft and warm oasis in a town that seemed to be already shutting its windows to the spring night air. Emma and Killian had taken their time arriving at the destination, sharing a few more moments and embraces along the road in an unhurried fashion that was not exactly something they had before.

"Are you sure you are up for this?" he queried, his cheeks still a bit red from the exertion of both giving into his feelings for her and yet holding back before he did anything more. "It seems a rowdy crowd."

"I'm sure," she insisted boldly. "I did work at Granny's."

Moving deftly toward one of the remaining tables, Killian grabbed her arm to pull her back toward him. "We don't have to stay here," he commented, his eyes barely masking the disdain for a few of the rowdier patrons. "Perhaps a spot outside would be quieter."

Surprise was marring her expression as she looked back at him. "This bothers you? I thought you were a fearless captain."

He shifted his weight, trying not to be too obvious with his watching of two local farmers far too inebriated to stand. "I thought you might be offended," he muttered. A local man standing on the end of the bar and declaring himself the winner of a game of dice before being batted away by a barmaid illustrated Killian's point.

"You said you wanted to try to woo me in such a location," she reminded him. "And I worked at Granny's. I know how these places are when it gets started."

He was about to argue that the Widow Lucas would never condone the type of behavior of other pubs at her place of business. The gruff older woman was a stickler for many things, including decorum of the drunk. Despite her advancing age, Granny was a formidable woman who even made Killian sometimes nod with a dumb expression at her demands. However, Emma was already moving away from him and procuring that table by the staircase. Her cape swooshed as she practically floated into the seat and looked at him expectantly. Holding a finger up to her, he sought out the attention of the one of the two servers and ordered them each a pint.

She managed to surprise him again when she did not sip from the mug of ale as he had expected but drank it down with the experience of most of his crew. A stunned eyebrow rose as she wiped her lips afterward. "I am not as innocent as you might presume," she told him.

"I am repeatedly reminded that I am wrong to ever doubt you." There was admiration as he took the seat next to her. He said nothing of how she must have moved that chair to her side rather than across from her. The position was so close that their legs and shoulders seemed to touch even when they were not being purposeful in their affections. "You are a lass with a great many secret talents and skills that more than make up for anyone's lack of belief in you."

"I'm not sure that my drinking ale is a talent or a skill."

"If it was, my crew would be more highly regarded." He leaned toward her as if to share a secret. "No, it is not your ability to partake in spirits that is of considerable envy, love. It is your ability to blend into your surroundings. No one would suspect that you are…high born with a display such as that."

"Not tonight," she reminded him, managing to lean closer to him herself. "Tonight I am Emma, a woman who is quite interested in a ship captain named Killian."

The drinks kept flowing until Killian suggested that they not imbibe so much that he would be carrying a drunk and loose tongued Emma back into the royal palace. That was not a conversation or confrontation that he relished having with her parents. However, that did not stop either of them from enjoying the various treats that he managed to procure from the eager eyed server. It also did not stop them from enjoying each other's company even more. He was not sure there was anything left for them to share of their stories and pasts, but they never lacked for conversation, the wax of the candle and string of smoke tickling their noses. Besides carrying with her the book smarts of her tutoring, she was an interesting woman who he appreciated for her insights and observations. She was humorous and kind, rarely saying a bad word against anyone in their group. However, that did not mean she was not opinionated and strong, as she was certainly her father's daughter in that regard. Emma was, as he was learning, not a woman who gave her trust to many people. She was skeptical and hard to fully understand, but once you earned acceptance into her inner circle, she was loyal to a fault.

One of the barmaids began to sing with the tune that minstrel was strumming, a few of the patrons humming or swaying their hips in the recognition of it. Killian could not help but notice the childlike exuberance of Emma's green eyes as she watched a few of the bolder or more inebriated patrons push aside tables to dance as someone else began to pound the beat onto the surface of the bar and another joined on an old and out of tune piano in the corner.

"Would you care to dance, Emma?" he asked, repeating the question as she stared at him dubiously as though she hadn't heard his request. He extended his hand toward hers and whispered into her ear that this could be practice for the next night's festivities.

The setting and choreography of the dance was not as formal as she had been taught, but Killian wound one arm around her waist and smiled as she placed her hand over his hook. Sweeping her along to the cadence of the tune, he joined her laughter with his own rich tone and admired the fresh glow about her. He knew that the others in the room did not see her as he did, as her magical disguise made her almost raven haired and more angular. Still, he felt as though he was luckier than any other when she breathlessly told him that he was better at dancing than she had thought.

"I'm glad I can surprise you at something."

While his eyes stayed trained on her, he did let them sweep toward where the fingers and palm of her right hand curled around his hook. Sadly, he realized, she had not even thought to mask that accessory in her spell over their appearance.

"I thought you might be uncomfortable without it," she said, guessing what he was thinking with the intensity of his quick glance. "And I don't truly mind it. It is a part of you."

"Just another surprising facet to you, darling," he said, forcing his eyes back to her. "I hardly think of it any longer, but you seem much less affected by it than others. Some will avert their eyes and others can't help but stare."

Tilting her head as she considered that, her long thick braid of hair falling forward and brushing against his chest. "I did not know you before you lost your hand. While I am sorry that you did lose it, I find nothing lacking in your ability. You work so well without it that I have no reason to think about it other than fleetingly like tonight." When he arched his eyebrow in question of what she meant, she practically giggled. "I am not afraid of it or you, Killian. I only meant I noticed it because when I did grab hold it was cold and made me remember that I did not wear my gloves."

"I do apologize," he said, falling into the silence between them as he spun her once more. He had not been lying when he informed her of his knowledge of the dances they would certainly encounter the next night, but he did not practice them often. However, this was a perfect opportunity to hold her tight to him even in public. She was not complaining, laying her head on his chest between the songs, her breath labored and hair a bit messy from the exertion.

"I should be more frightened," she said when the music broke and the noise level dropped. "What we are doing tomorrow is not an easy thing."

"You are not scared?"

"Of course some," she corrected. "I only say that because I fear my mind is someplace else. My concentration is not on that in the moment."

His hand was still at the seam where the skirt of her dress met the rest of the fabric. There was no move or protest from her as he held her that tightly. "Dare I ask what it is on?"

"You," she answered simply. "When all is done tomorrow you will leave. You won't have reasons to stay." She shifted uncomfortably in his grasp. "I don't want to say goodbye."

"Aye, I can't say as I have been looking forward to that prospect either, but we need not think about such things until their time. I suppose that a man of breeding and substance would have words with your father in such a case, ask permission to write you and visit." He had not been a man who ever had any desire to do such things. The woman he had loved in the past was well past such formalities. And wenches and such did not typically require such discussions.

Sucking in a breath, she twisted a bit of the fabric of his shirt under her fingers. "I wasn't asking you to do that," she said firmly and with embarrassed haste. "I only meant…"

"I will, you know? I will speak to your father if it is what you wish me to do. For the life of me I can't understand what you might see in me, but I won't argue against it. I will appreciate your attention for as long as you should give it, darling. And if you should…"

"We will talk to him," she interrupted, again the royal decree of her words shining through. "We will talk to him together." The conversation waned as they again joined in with the dancing.

***AAA***

Taking the tired Princess back to their seats, Killian ordered a few things, including some of the bread that they dipped into the seasoned broth. He laughed over her tale of eating too much as a child when Granny was visiting and demanded that she like her cooking over the palace's official chef. The young Princess had served as judge, eating two helpings of each course so that she could decide and declare a winner. She had been sick for two days after, but even upon waiting found the two women wanting her to announce her findings.

Emma found herself reluctant to leave the cozy pub, even when there was the danger of being caught. Grumpy – one of her mother's dearest friends – had entered the establishment late for his nightly brew. Despite her magical disguise, Emma slinked back against the wall and staircase, clutching her cloak around her as though cold. Killian didn't realize her worry at first, assuming that she was cold and rubbing her folded hands under his right.

When the dwarf made an exit to talk to someone more privately, Emma let out the breath she was holding. Calling herself foolish, she smiled sheepishly at Killian and explained. "I know he couldn't know it was me, but… Perhaps we should go back," she said, giving another look around the tight space. "My mother could overrule Elsa and go to check on me."

"I'd rather not have any other marks against me," he admitted. "Your father and mother already find me quite dastardly and by far not good enough for your companion."

She was about to answer that she was not concerned as much with their opinion, as she saw in him something far better than they could ever seem to understand. She wanted to reassure him, but the commotion of a late entry to the pub interrupted that thought as yet another familiar face was framed in the light.

"Come quickly," the man said to one of the older men who Emma didn't recognize. "There's trouble at the palace."

Emma's heart thumped wildly and bile rose in her throat, wanting to demand an explanation but knowing that doing so would reveal her identity. She groped for Killian's hand, tugging on it as he held back, surely as concerned as she was about the whole thing. "Wait," he said in a low tone. "We should hold back a moment. We can gain on them in the forest."

That was what they did, not bothering to guess what the trouble might be or share stories about times when they had been similarly worried. Emma had worked her way up in magic to be able to move from place to place without traveling conventionally, but she was limited in what she could do with a companion. So they hurried, quick and sometimes clumsy steps, her dress and cloak getting snagged on branches. Killian's hook came in useful as he broke them away.

It was Elsa who they saw first. The woman's white blonde hair glowing in the moonlight as she stood just inside the guarded gate. She would not have recognized them had Emma not removed the glamour spell just seconds before.

"I wasn't thinking, Emma," she said, her voice hoarse and unsure. "Earlier today when we took the boys skating. I didn't remove the spells we did. I just left it."

Emma paled as she realized what Elsa was saying. It had been a challenge to keep the pond frozen while the afternoon sun had beat down upon it, but they had managed. Yet when the boys became tired, they had trouped them back inside without regard for the condition of the lake. It had stayed frozen for a while after they left, but the warmth of the sun and its unnatural condition had done a number on the integrity of the ice. "Which one?"

"Henry and Roland are fine. They are with Regina now. All three boys snuck out here for one more go at skating." Elsa's stricken face turned toward the very worried Snow and David. "Leo's somewhere. We don't know…"

Emma swallowed hard, the ringing in her ears now deafening as she sought out her parents. The shattered expressions and disappointment were a familiar sight for her as she threw herself into her mother's arms. "Why didn't you unfreeze it?" she yelled back at Elsa.

Her friend's hands were clasped and the wind was blowing lightly through her hair, a few errant strands leaving the long braid that was her signature. "I tried," she said brokenly. "I tried." It was then that Emma noticed the tiny flakes that usually came with the Queen of Arendelle's emotional distress. Clearly her friend could not do it. Neither could Regina, who was much more adept at other magic than frozen solutions.

Emma's mother looked at her pleadingly. "Do something." It was a small break in the hopeful countenance where she was insisting that Leo was fine and well. She went back to it immediately, reassuring her husband whose eyes were scanning for sight of the young boy. Three of the dwarfs were linked and searching through the holes in the ice. There were so many breaks that it was impossible to see where Leo had gone into the water.

Raising her hands unsteadily, Emma obliterated sections of the ice, revealing the water as it should be fore that time of the year. Her father dove for it, ducking his head underneath to search for his only son. Ripping off his coat, Killian joined the King, calling out his contrary findings.

"Over here!" David's voice rang out and sent a scurrying of the dwarfs. Emma was already pulling off her cape and her mother's too, saying something about using them to warm her brother. It did not occur to either of them that he was not going to be fine. Or maybe it did and they did not say it.

Using the strength of his arms, Killian lifted himself out of the water and onto the bank. He yelled to David to drag the boy in that direction, pointing out that it was much shallower and an even surface. Emma and Snow rushed to his side as David lifted him and Killian freed the boy from the underwater growth of vines and reeds that had tangled around his legs. Leo's face was pale as they pulled him out of the water, his lips slightly blue as David pulled himself up and hovered over him. A few presses to his chest and a few more breaths and Leo coughed violently, sputtering water to the instant joy of the Queen.

Killian pulled Emma to him as the King and one of the dwarfs worked feverishly on the young Prince. She shivered a bit in his embrace, her cloak now serving as a blanket for her brother. "Is he alright?"

"Aye," Killian answered, adding commentary that he hoped would calm the nerves of all of them, including him. "It appears that he must have had air for a while before losing consciousness. Perhaps a pocket under the ice." Elsa was offering an explanation that they had set out in search of him before he ever fell through, finding him in those moments and not able to get to him.

"He's very cold," David said without emotion. "Too cold." Leo had been born prematurely and was still slight for his age, his fragility evident that he caught whatever ailment was going around with more ease than the others. To look at him there on the ground wrapped in the cloaks of his mother and sister, his father's large hands trying to rub warmth into him, was to remember how they had almost lost him at birth.

"Isn't there anything?" Killian began to say into Emma's hair, a plea that she was trying not to ignore as her own body trembled.

"It wasn't magic that hurt him," she explained woefully. "Not like you. It is the water not the ice." Her words and tone were short, but he understood their meaning. Her magic could heal magical wounds and not those of nature. She wobbled a bit as that reality set over her, settling into a feeling of despair. She told Elsa to get Regina, hoping she was wrong. But she wasn't. The boy needed medical attention and not magical intervention.

***AAA***

"Can he play with us?" Henry asked when Emma and Killian entered nursery to brief Robin on the condition of the Prince. "He's always fun."

"Maybe later," Robin said, vacating his chair at the table where the boys have been building their own version of the palace. Emma was quite impressed that he had not protested being relegated to nursemaid while Regina joined the others. Telling him as much, he shrugged off the praise humbly and said he would do whatever he could to make sure the boy was alright.

"The lad is resting," Killian said to him, giving Emma a chance to choose the next words more carefully. His hair and clothing was still damp from having dove into the water, but he had yet to leave Emma's side to dress again.

Robin's kind expression was not overly curious as he maneuvered them a bit away from the younger boys. Apologetically he looked at the couple. "It seems that they decided as a trio to sneak out and go for one more skate. The Prince was faster than these two and was already on the ice while they were still trying to secure their blades on their feet."

"Thank the Gods for that," Killian muttered. "It might have been all three that broke through."

Emma's glistening eyes shot to the boys. "Did they see anything that troubled them? I am certain it must have been quite scary for them."

Robin scrubbed his hand over his face. "No, your highness. The boys believed your brother to be playing a joke. They thought he was hiding." He said it apologetically, explaining that at their age they were unaware of the dangers.

"I am grateful for that," Emma said, resting her hand on Robin's forearm. "They are too young to carry with them the fear and trauma of seeing such a thing with understanding."

***AAA***

Granny hovered outside of Leo's room with Johanna, both women barking orders at Doc and a few of the other dwarfs who were bringing the young Prince all of his favorite things. Emma was not all that surprised when she hears the older women telling one of them not to bring his pony inside the palace, but that a painting of it will suffice for now. Everyone was trying to help in their own way.

"His color is looking better," Snow announced, her back ramrod straight on the backless stool where she had taken a seat just after Leo was carried to his room. Regina sat next to her, a worried and pinched expression on her face. According to the former queen, there were some roots or other herbs that might be of help. But after an exhaustive conversation about where to find them, nobody was quite sure.

"I could go," Killian said from his spot down the hall where other guests had begun to congregate. Emma was about to join him and Robin on what felt to her a fruitless quest when there was a scream from Leo's room. It was not the same as the reaction the Queen had to seeing her son pale and nearly lifeless, but instead it was one of joy as the child's eyes opened and his hoarse voice called out to his parents.

"He's well," Emma said, throwing herself first into Killian's embrace and then Elsa's before returning to Killian's arms again. She had vacillated between Leo's room to stand near her parents and the sitting area where she assured Elsa all was going to be fine and asked Killian to make the same assurances to her.

Regina was the first out of the room, noting that the sun had already shown itself over the grassy knolls in the east. "If we are to keep with our plans for tonight, I must have some rest," she said. However, Emma not so sure that she could rest, the image of her brother's pale form haunting her.

"You should rest," Killian said to her so gently that she was surprised the tone came from him. His hand under her elbow, he led her back to her floor. She was not unaware that her mother would have found it highly inappropriate for him to accompany her to her bed chambers, but he did not cross that threshold. Instead, he walked her to the small study and led her to the settee that was situated near the fireplace. She realized quickly that he intended to stay with her, having left the door open as the rules of decorum would have required.

"You'll stay with me?" she asked. His careful nod was affirmation enough as she adjusted her skirts to recline back and he puttered about to build a fire. She told him it wasn't necessary, but he argued that he should be allowed to do the one thing he could in such a room.

His clothing was dry, she realized as he brushed against her to sit. "Did you change?" she asked, confused as to when he could have since he seemed to have been there all along. He chuckled that Robin had insisted and even had a servant bring him some drier things. Placing a pillow across his lap, he insisted that she rest there so that she might sleep a bit.

"I'm not tired," she insisted. She hesitated, kneeling before him to remove his boots and place his feet upon the short table for his comfort. "I assure you that I will stay awake."

"Aye, I'm sure you are not, but you face a challenge tonight that I would rather have you alert for, love."

"I doubt that I would be able to sleep through an attack from the Dark One." His hand was warm, even through the sleeve of her dress, and his fingertips seemed light as they moved in some unseen pattern. "But this is nice."

"Then you know of my designs," he said. "I was looking for a way to hold you close without complaint."

"You will get that chance at the ball," she reminded him. "You proved to me that you can dance."

"Aye, it will be marred with thoughts of the Crocodile though. I will not rest easy or enjoy until he is dealt with once and for all."

She smiled, her position awkward as she tried to meet his gaze. "You could help, you know?"

"How is that?" The firelight flickered among the shadows of his features and she could not see them fully in that half light.

"Tell me of your adventures," she said. "Inspire me with your tales of bravery and courage." She could tell he was about to protest and claim that he had been anything but brave. However, for reasons she did not fully grasp, he didn't protest. She did not interrupt his stories, only reaching up to join her hand with his where it rested near her shoulder. His stories were funny and touching, a few moments scaring her and others making her wish to weep for what he had faced and gone through.

It was not long until her eyes fluttered shut and her breathing evened that his voice drifted off. She was not aware that her mother entered the room. Killian didn't even see the Queen enter at first, her expression one of worry as she pattered into the space and took in the sight of her daughter reclined against a pirate who was dozing quietly himself.

"I wished for her to rest and she seemed quite intent against it," he excused, his hand still wrapped up with Emma's.

"I have no doubt of that," Snow said, her hand resting on the mantle as she stared at the neatly flaming fire. "I was concerned about her, as I know she must be worried about tonight." For all her talk of concern, Snow White was living up to her name with a pale complexion and darkening circles. "David had to drag me out of the room and let Leo sleep."

While Emma's hair is lighter than her mother's and her frame taller, Killian was not blind to the similarities. She wears that same stubbornness on her features, that same set of the jaw when she is contemplating something. He can imagine Emma as the queen of the kingdom, her strength on display. "I hope not too worried," he said. "As a man who has fought many battles, I know that it is detrimental to let such worry run rampant."

Snow watched him, wanting to both commend his bravery for not shifting position to avoid offending her and to thank him for caring for her daughter so much. "So you will be there tonight…at her side?"

"Aye, I think I am of better service there than rushing about the forest in search of a dagger, milady." He sounded as if he truly believed it. However, there was a part of him – far larger than he wanted to admit – that did not want to leave Emma's side. He might not have had magic, but he was willing to fight whatever creature stood in her way if she would allow it. How could he put that in words though? How could he explain?

"I arranged something for you to wear," she said, sounding for all the world like it was just a normal royal event. "I don't mean to insult you, but I thought you might like something less…"

"Less naval or scoundrel like?" He immediately blushed that he was being familiar with a queen with a princess curled up against his thigh. He might have decades on the women in that room, but they were above his station and clearly

"Emma, my daughter, doesn't care that much about tradition, propriety, or public opinion," Snow declared, fondly looking at her daughter. "Or perhaps she does, but she is so afraid of being shunned that she pretends it is all beneath her. Either way, she would never tell you how to dress or how to behave so as not to embarrass her."

He swallowed over the growing lump in his throat. For all the doubts he had about himself, the idea of embarrassing Emma by being less of a man than she deserved was top of the list. "I am sure your selection will be appreciated."

Snow gave him a slow nod, retreating from her position with haste. He assumed her to be done with the conversation and ready to move on from it, but she returned moments later with two knitted blankets that smelled vaguely of cedar. She unfurled the first one and covered her daughter with it, the soft yarn tickling Killian's hand. A bit more hesitant with the second, Snow looked thoughtfully before she unfolded it and then placed it over his legs. "It's a bit chilly tonight," she told him, her shoulders lifting up slightly. "Don't worry. I'll direct the staff to leave you be. No need in adding to Emma's worries with gossip and rumors about you staying the night."

"I meant to leave once she was asleep." He said, though it was a bit of a lie. He had thought about needing to leave, but he had yet to bring himself to do it. It was easy enough to excuse it as his desire to let her sleep and not disturb the tenuous hold she has on it. But it wasn't that simple.

"Of course," the Queen said, straightening up. "I should leave you be. I do need rest too. It will be a busy night."

***AAA***

The tunic in Killian's room is red, the same red of Emma's gown that her mother had been protesting just a few days earlier. He wasn't even aware of its color and significance until she was presented. The tall staircase empty just moments before was lit with her warmth as she was announced and began her graceful walk down toward the crowd. The dress was luxurious with perfectly fit bodice and a full skirt that made her thin waist all the more trim. A delectable glimpse of her cleavage made him smile as he realized she must have demanded that, as her mother would not have chosen it for her. Her long blonde hair was pulled up and away from her face, knotted elegantly and held back by an intricate design of a headband with silver and small rubies. She had told him once that she was not a fan of wearing a tiara, as it made her feel all the more on display.

She bowed before her mother and father first, a custom that could not be ignored. Next she did the same before Elsa, who was the guest of honor. Sashaying gracefully to the side, she dipped her head toward Regina and Robin, as well as a few of the royal couples who had made the journey to the kingdom. Finally she paused before Killian, smiling shyly at first, she curtsied before his deep bow and then laughed as he gave her a look of confusion. "I'm afraid I have never been in this position, love," he said under his breath as she moved toward him.

"Nor have I," she admitted. "I usually stay at my parents' side for these type things. Either that or I'm avoiding some arrogant prince who is said to be a good match for me politically."

"Then I am honored to learn with you," he said, mimicking the way that the other gentleman were offering their arms to the women beside them. "I was starting to think I might have been better served heading out with the others."

"I prefer you here with me," she said as the grew closer to Elsa and her parents. The two queens were genuinely kind as many of the nobles began the first dance, an intricate number that was far faster than most from that realm. David stood back a little, his hands clasped in front of him. As most royal conversations went, Killian complimented the music and food – though he had yet to partake of anything. Both Snow and David appeared to appreciate the effort, though Elsa appeared more amused.

Several of the dignitaries, nobles and royal family members of other kingdoms stopped before them to bow and thank them for the invitation. Though they looked upon Killian with a mild curiosity, Emma offered little in the way of explanation other than his name if someone pointedly asked. When he questioned her on it, admitted that she could barely remember their names, making introductions and issue. Since the herald and caller announced each by title, Killian wondered if they even knew Emma's name or just saw her as the heir to the crown.

When Emma grasped Elsa's arm and said that she wished to take a moment, Killian appreciatively followed the Princess out of the main ballroom and into a smaller yet still formidable sitting area. "Are you not well?" he asked as she fanned herself a bit.

"I hate these things. The fake courtesy, the tight clothing, the overcooked food…"

"The apparel is not so bad," Killian argued lightly. "You look beautiful in that gown, which makes the high collar on this tunic and coat all the more bearable for me." He tugged a bit on the collar to make his point. "And you are quite impressive with the way you can speak to these people. I did not realize you knew so many languages."

"Hours of tutoring," she said, appearing embarrassed by his admiration. "You look quite dashing yourself."

His smile was half playful and half arrogant. "So I am not too accustomed with the itinerary for these things, but might we have that dance now?"

To be continued….


	24. Chapter 24

_I hate ff writers who apologize for the delay, but I must apologize. It has been a rough few weeks. I have quit my job over some creative differences, battled illness and a few tests in the hospital, and lost my sweet young cousin in a car accident. While there are good things happening in my life and announcements that I hope to make soon, I'm just going to post my chapter here and hope that you enjoy it. There are some parts you might find vague, but there is good reason. I hope you enjoy!_

"I can't help but worry," David said as his daughter's hand closed over his and the first notes of the familiar melody rang out through the long banquet hall. "We may be underestimating him."

"It is too late to go back now," Emma said, her lips barely moving and her voice low. She had never felt as nervous as she did waiting on the Dark One to appear, counting her moments of peace down. However, the fact that she was at her parents' ball with Killian almost constantly at her side was not lost on her. She usually reserved herself to observe, dancing with her father a few times or maybe one of her honorary uncles if she was feeling sociable. She had shared dozens of dances with her father, to the point that they no longer seemed distinct. In that moment, it did feel different.

Looking reminiscent and wistful, the King performed the next steps gracefully. "Your grandmother was so troubled by the Dark One's powers that she would never utter his name. She would just get this look in her eyes and you knew who she was speaking of then."

David always seemed wistfully happy when he spoke of his mother, the woman who had raised him and taught him to be the man he was today. She had, according to the stories he had told his daughter, been a formidable woman with a heart of gold. She accepted no guff from anyone, least of all her son. When she met Snow, she had been determined to see them married and made sure that her son was happy before departing the earth. "I can't imagine she was afraid of anyone," Emma said, not sure how to reconcile that information with the stories she had been told.

"Few aren't afraid of him." Changing the topic as the choreography led them closer to where Killian and the Queen stood on the sidelines, David spun his daughter in place, the folds of her skirt landing back into formation. "You care for the pirate?"

It was just a five word question, simple enough and easily enough answered. Her father wanted her to say no. He wanted her to say that she was merely amusing herself or using him to fight the Dark One. But deep down he knew. He had to know, as he would not have asked otherwise. "Yes, Papa, I do care for him. I know that probably disappoints you."

To her surprise, the King's face gave way to a little smile. "I am impressed that you feel strongly enough to tell me. You probably would have baldly denied it if there was any doubt in you."

Rendering her speechless for a moment, she averted her eyes from the man in question, chewing at her lip. When she was finally able to speak, she did so after a deep sigh. "I did not mean to care for him. I know you had other hopes for me."

Affectionately, her father squeezed her smaller hand. "Emma, you are a grown woman. While I wish I could protect you from every pain and hurt, including heartbreak, I cannot do such without being a tyrant. If you care for this man as I suspect he cares for you, I can do little to stop it. Your mother has taught me that love finds a way past obstacles, no matter how hopeless the situation. I only ask that you don't act rash or without thought. It is no reflection on you, but in our family we do have that trait."

Emma laughed as she spun to face her father in time with the music. "He does too," she confided. "In fact, he reminds me of you."

David groaned. "This is not what I wish to hear, Emma. I don't want to imagine a day when you travel off with him and forget your life here."

"I could not forget my family or my responsibility," Emma said with a determined tone. "I'm not about to run away from that."

"Good to know."

***AAA***

Her gown's skirt was the perfect fullness for dancing, Killian observed as Emma and her father had a moment together on the polished wooden floor. It twirled around her, sometimes having to catch up in some of the more frantic moments of the choreography. Her blonde hair coiled effortlessly and her eyes were bright even to his vision from part way across the room. The only dark spot on the moment was the internal voice that told him she was far too good for a man like him. He knew he should squash it if he had any hope of winning over her parents to his side, but that was a hard proposition for a man whose self-loathing had made him the man he was.

"Emma used to demand that her father teach her to dance," Snow mused, having slipped back inside the ball room from checking on the three young boys and their guards of soldiers, fairies, and a nanny. "She was a natural, but still she wanted to practice all the time."

"She moves quite effortlessly," Killian noted. He had already been lucky to share three dances with her, well aware that the very act of her monogamy had the tongues of the other attendees wagging. When she had accepted her father's invitation, she had quite flirtatiously and boldly told the pirate that he shouldn't go too far, as she wished for more time with him.

"I think she may feel safe with you." Emma's mother was almost as perceptive as her daughter, seeing through the words to the meaning behind them. "God knows she has always wanted to feel safe."

"I think that is a request of many of us," Killian said with a shrug. "What good is happiness or any other emotion if we cannot seem to stop looking over our shoulders?"

Snow could have easily told him of her own thoughts on the subject, having spent the first years of her marriage convinced that Regina would somehow regain her magic and return to power. Yet that memory did not seem to fit in light of the fact that the former queen was now in conversation with her husband and had moments earlier been sipping on champagne after a toast they had shared.

Killian took the Queen's silence as a rebuke of his intentions and quickly tried to rectify the situation. "You know that I have no greater responsibility than to protect your daughter. I would not let harm come to her so long as I…"

Flicking a hand at his babbling, Snow smiled sweetly. "Your intentions toward Emma are more my husband's concern," she said. "I am not one to think that my daughter is helpless or in need of protecting. She has a strong penchant for doing that herself."

"Aye, she does, but I don't wish you to think that I…"

"I don't," Snow answered quickly, dipping her head in recognition as another of the royal couples from a neighboring land walked by. They had already greeted all the guests, but decorum dictated that one show familiar recognition at people of the same station. There was no emotion in the eyes of either party, Killian had realized quickly. In fact, they were barely going through the motions. Snow was obviously preoccupied with the Dark One's lack of an appearance. Nobody in the know wanted to say anything, but the fear was palpable that perhaps he was not going to behave as planned. Everyone out of the loop seemed more interested that the long feud between Regina and Snow seemed to have reached a truce with the dark haired women both in the ballroom.

Following a sharp crescendo of the music, the dancers stopped, bowing and curtseying to their partners with exaggerated depth. Emma was laughing at something her father said, her hands knotted fiercely at her waist in a stance that beguiled her easy laughter. Pushing her way through the throngs of dancers without waiting for her father's arm, she crossed the floor to wear Killian and her mother were standing. "He's not here," she hissed. "Why…"

Another couple walked a bit too closely for the conversation to continue, leaving them to smile pleasantly and Killian to repeat the now trite line about enjoying the music. He'd said it so often when someone came a bit too close for conversation that Emma couldn't help but giggle at the insincerity of his words. David, having managed to steal his wife away for the next dance, had smiled affectionately at his daughter before leaving her in the company of the pirate.

"Your father has not made good on his promises of bodily harm," Killian teased as Emma gestured for them to sit out the next dance. "I am most appreciative of whatever you might have said to postpone or dissuade such thoughts."

"You are not frightened of him, are you?"

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Killian reminded himself of his former life as a naval officer. Before the promotions and days at sea with his brother, he had stood in formation with the other men, being inspected, judged, and valued by any dignitary daring to look. He had felt no less unnerved as he did when David had seen him enter the room with Emma on his arm. "I am not used to interacting with the parents of a lass. Frightened might be an overstatement. It is more that I am a bit off balance."

"Too off balance to share another dance?" Her eyes twinkled merrily as he chuckled and took her hand in his, pulling it to his lips and brushing against her knuckles.

"You are doing brilliantly, love," he assured her. "You appear much more at ease than your friend, the Queen."

Both of them watched Elsa politely dissuade another of the noble suitors that approached her. While she had many years before learned to control her magic, Elsa knew that emotional outbursts were her downfall. She had to remain without distraction.

"I should go to her," Emma admitted reluctantly, "but we promised not to hover. It would be too obvious. I wish this was all over and we were holding this ball in celebration of his demise."

Cocking his head to the side and running the pad of his thumb over the smoothness of her hand, he smiled. "And what would the Princess like to do so different than this? Would you prefer to have a variety of partners to dance with or indulge a bit in the wine that your mother had brought up from the reserves?"

"You shouldn't be jealous." She giggled a bit at his stuttering denial and placed a finger over his lips. "I'll tell you. If I wasn't waiting on him to appear, I'd be hoping that you would escort me on a walk through my mother's gardens. Perhaps it would be slightly chilly and I would need to wear your coat to keep me from becoming ill."

Pursing his lips to kiss the long finger, he smiled against the digit. "I would in an instant, love. If you should request it, I would steal you away and sail off to protect you from the Dark One or any other unsightly beast."

"If it wasn't for my family, my kingdom, and that little boy needing me to succeed, I would ask you to do just that."

Someone nearby laughed a little too heartily at a joke and the scent of truffles and pastry cream tickled their noses. The bright colors of the tapestries and coats of arms on the walls seemed to dance along with the guests, mixing in and out of Emma's senses.

"You care for the boy?" Killian asked, a hint of confusion rising in his voice. "Like your brother?"

"He's a sweet child," Emma tried to explain, unsure of the connection herself. "So smart and so brave. I should like to think that he will be safe in his mother's arms after this."

***AAA***

While each of the players had created their own excuses inside their heads for why the Dark One had yet to appear, Emma was sure that he was close. Call it a hunch or a sixth sense, Emma could feel him getting closer. Though she said nothing and continued to dance and talk with Killian, taking momentary breaks to sit and catch her breath as he offered to fetch her a drink or simply held her hand, she felt the nearness of evil as surely as she was alive.

Leaning in to whisper to him, Emma's breath was warm on his skin. "Promise me you won't do anything foolish."

He appeared startled at her instructions. "I don't know what you mean," he said in a faux innocence that pinged off her ability to see a lie. "I'm rarely a fool."

"When the Dark One gets here," she clarified for no reason other than to ensure he knew what she was saying without question. "When he arrives don't try anything stupid like running him through with your sword. I know you want vengeance, but the man is afflicted with the curse of the Dark One. Immortality is one of the implications. It would do nothing but call attention to your weaknesses and put you in his sights."

Killian swallowed hard, remembering well his attempt to kill the man before and failing miserably. He had not acted in anything but emotion and anger, hoping to inflict the same sort of pain he had just felt. However, he had ended up with his hand gone and hovering near death for days as the Crocodile escaped with nary a scratch. "I will do nothing that is in retaliation," he assured her. "However, should he be poised to hurt you, I will not stand and watch helplessly."

"I can save myself," she protested. "I did not wish you here to protect me."

"And yet I am here," he answered cheekily. "Dare I ask why?"

She did not answer, standing abruptly and letting the small plate of pastries fall to the floor with a clatter. Killian was instantly at her side, his hand resting on the handle of his sword as she eyed the figure walked down the center aisle and sending the dancers scurrying with just his springy walk. Placing her own hand on Killian's, she hissed for him to step back away from her, repeating it when it seemed he might not answer.

Regina must have seen him even faster than the others, as she was nearing him when she had been across the room with Robin earlier. Her features were grim as she greeted him, telling him that he was wasting his time. "You must know that everyone with magic will fight for the protection of my son," she announced haughtily.

"Your son was simply a loan to you," the man's manic tone punctuating each word. He kept his eyes primed on the room. When three of the King's guards got a bit too close he waved his hand and sent them backward with so much force that they only stopped when coming into brutal contact with the stone wall. "Besides, I could have already taken him. I wanted to see her. I wanted to see the Savior."

The knot in Emma's stomach grew bigger as she took another step closer. She and Elsa were measuring their movements to match pace. Regina had already told her that Rumpelstiltskin had been watching her from before her birth, establishing that she would be the one that could have ended the curse that would have ripped them all from their lives. "He has a strong interest in you," she had explained over tea that day. "Unhealthy since he is also afraid of you and the power that comes to you naturally."

Elsa stepped forward past a nearly frozen man and woman who had been dancing. "We know you're here for Henry," she said without bothering to introduce herself. "No sense in pretending otherwise."

Looking annoyed, the man whose skin glittered in the light of the lanterns, candles, and torches, giggled and turned his head toward the silent Emma. He knew that she was assessing him, cataloging his every feature to later compare to that of her first love. Could she see anything of Baelfire in him? "You should know better than to try to sneak up on a man who can foresee the future and knows more about the past than you'll ever manage."

The slight hiccough sound she made was nearly a scoff, at least she hoped it came out that way. "I'm merely trying to get closer so that we might talk," she said as if he were one of the subjects upset about some new tax or in disagreement over a property line. Her father had taught her to approach them similarly. "I wasn't aware that you were invited here tonight."

His laugh was high pitched and tinged with disdain. "I do believe this all," he began with a flourishing spin, "was planned for me. You wanted me here, right? Wanted to teach me a lesson."

"If I wanted you here, you would have been invited," she returned, noting that Regina had already signaled to Snow to move out of the room while they kept him occupied. It was time to send a messenger bird to the band waiting to invade his home. And there were the children to think about as well.

"So formal," he said, his nose wrinkling as though the idea was preposterous. "Regina is well aware of why I'm here. Aren't you, dearie?" He kept his eyes on Emma, not bothering to look toward the former queen despite talking to her. It was clear that the very crowded nature of the room was bothering him. He knew the occupants and seemed to be deciding who to torture first.

"If you wanted him so much, you would have already taken him." Regina was not one to show her fear and unlike Emma seemed much more confident as she faced this man.

"Emma," he said, his voice pouring over her name. "You like to read, don't you, dearie. You enjoy a good book. I've seen the libraries here. You probably curl up in a window seat on a rainy day and read until the words blur on the page, don't you?"

She did love to read, but why that seemed to matter to him she wasn't sure. Shaking off the confused haze he was trying to create, she pursed her lips. "I think you need to explain yourself. You have been threatening a child. That's not something that we condone in this kingdom." It came out like she was scolding a child and not challenging the Dark One. Despite his known immortality, the royal archers lined the balconies of the second and third floor. Swordsmen were advancing, just waiting for the King or Princess to give the signal. Each time one moved, Rumpelstiltskin would wiggle his fingers or flick his wrist to send them back, occasionally holding one by the throat magically until the flailing stopped and he dropped the man to the ground.

"This is quite tiresome," he said finally bringing his hands together and then apart in a giant circle, everyone except the three women with magic froze in place. "Better."

"What is it that you want?" Emma asked, trying to ignore the helpless feeling at seeing everyone in mid breath. "It can't just be Henry."

"I want my son," he explained as though it should be obvious. "I want Bae to come home to me."

Regina shook her head incredulously, ignoring the obvious trap and walking toward him. "How can my son bring back your son? That makes no sense."

Emma felt a bit of bile burning the back of her throat as she recognized the arrogant grin upon the man's face, one that his son had inherited. Baelfire was his father's son in so many ways, but that did not make him the same evil menace. Her first love had worn that same expression when they had played cards beneath a tree on a hot summer day, biting back his laughter at his winning hand. He had worn it again when she had confessed she loved him, telling her that he already knew of her feelings. But Baelfire had not succumb to the darkened desires of his father's quest for power. He had been afraid of it, afraid of the magic that consumed him. He had begged Emma to forego her own powers, telling her of his desire to live in a land without magic.

"He's gone," Emma said, interrupting the man's cackle at Regina's questions. "Baelfire is gone. He left us all because of you and your magic."

"And you think that yours did not frighten him?" Rumpelstiltskin crowed loudly. "I was a known entity to my son, a known factor in his life. You were not. He ran from you, abandoned you."

"This is not an argument that either of us can win," Emma countered with a pang. "I'm just wishing to understand your purpose here. You want Henry. You have a contract with Regina that you can take him. Why not just take him? Why does she have to hand him over to you?"

***AAA**

Red paced in front of the door of the monstrosity that was usually hidden, her paws sinking into the damp earth under her weight. The two posted guards had put up little fight as she had approached, one nearly wetting himself from the sight of the giant wolf. Granny had accompanied three of the merry men into the long hallway, another gaggle of men taking the other route as she waited impatiently for them to return. Only Graham was with her, his voice soothing despite the odd circumstances.

Had she been gifted with the ability to talk in her wolf state, she might have told him that his soothing was unnecessary. Still it was comforting that he would sit there on the low wall and stroke at a bit of the fur atop of her head as he spoke.

When Granny emerged a few minutes later with a box tucked under her arm, Red almost didn't notice the dark haired beauty behind her. Looking rather meek and a bit overwhelmed, the woman took two steps to each of the merry men's one as she hurried out the door.

"He's not going to be hurt, is he?" she asked when Granny pointed for Graham to let the woman ride one of the horses tied nearby. "He has a good heart."

The woman, Belle, was so focused on getting her answer that she did not even seem to notice the wolf that even made the strangely named Little John jump as though he had forgotten her fierceness. Nobody answered her at first, helping Granny secure the package on the saddle of one of the other horses and scouring the lower branches of the trees for sight of another of Queen Snow's birds that might have instructions or warnings for them.

The older woman threw the red cloak over her granddaughter's shoulders and again sent the brunette into human form. As she usually did after the transformation, Red stretched her back and arms as though she was a bit sore from the experience and blinked a few times at the crowd that was pretending her duality was something normal and expected. "Did you get it?"

"That's to be seen," the woman said with a wary glance toward Belle. "She tells us that he secures his dagger in that box. It's locked and unable to be opened by anyone but him. Some sort of magic."

"If nobody can open it, what's the point?" Red waited as her grandmother was secure in her mount before joining the others. "We failed."

***AAA***

Snow crept back down the staircase as though the sound of her footsteps might somehow thwart the attempts to overpower the Dark One. As they had planned, she was to complete two tasks. First she had sent the bird with its message that Rumpelstiltskin had arrived and second she was to barricade the children with a vial of the magic potion that Regina had mixed to protect them. While they were guarded by the finest of guards and soldiers, as well as Johanna, two of the dwarfs, and one of the servants, Regina had said that the potion would be an added layer of defense. Its powers were temporary and therefore it was necessary to delay them until needed.

The lack of music and merriment or even mumbled conversation scared Snow a bit as she arrived on the ground floor where the ball was taking place. Only Rumpelstiltskin's maniacal laugh seemed to penetrate. David had told her to avoid coming back, suggesting that she wait with the children. Her reaction had been as he had expected, defiantly challenging him and threatening to take over the mission herself. Her long skirts were not as full as she would have normally worn and her trousers underneath would be what she wore if this battle grew to the levels that she would need to participate.

With soft steps, she stealthily managed to take refuge behind one of the tall columns at the end of the room. The sight of all the revelers in a frozen state was disconcerting, but taking a page from her bandit days she became more myopic in her focus. Her daughter, Regina and Elsa were in position, each taking turns at speaking to the Dark One. It had been their intention to keep his attention on the move rather than allowing him to become too comfortable. Most of the guards were lying on the ground, having been pushed back by magic, which they had assumed he would use. She could see her husband and Killian both to the side with their hands poised toward raising swords. They had clearly been frozen in midaction of protecting the others.

"You can't fix that now," she told herself, reaching noiselessly for the quiver she left just out of sight for this occasion. Regina had said to her that they needed the contract out of the man's hands. He would not likely hand it over and whatever method they used would only be temporary.

Trying to hold her breath so as not to make a single sound, she waited and watched as her daughter, former stepmother, and daughter's friend each set the plan in motion.

From her vantage point she could see her daughter's profile, the graceful slope of her neck and the soft curve upward of her nose. "You've had your chance, Dark One," she said with a forceful wave of her arm. "Explain yourself to us or we will…"

"Will what?" Rumpelstiltskin asked, immediately amused by the thought. "You're a mere novice and the Queen is too distracted to do any real harm. And Regina…well, Regina learned everything from me. She can't defeat me. A student can surpass, but only in rare circumstances."

The argument went circular and for a moment serpentine with Emma and Regina demanding to know why Henry and Elsa taunting with information gleaned from her sister. There were scary moments for the mother of the princess when the man blew her back magically for having advanced too far and too fast. She almost made her presence known then but waited as Regina blasted back and her daughter clambered cat like to her feet. For a moment the Queen was transported back in time to see her daughter fall from one of the garden walls. While other children would have wailed in pain, Emma had picked herself up and tried to scale it again.

Her moment came just seconds later when after the near begging, the Dark One pulled the scroll from beneath the fashioned jacket and unfurled it with a flick of his narrow wrist. Edges were a bit worn but the scrawling signatures were obvious. It was clear that the man was gloating, probably not even using the power that would have warned him of Snow's presence. That was why the first arrow flew so close to him unnoticed, piercing the scroll and pinning it to the painting at Regina's left.

She had no time to celebrate as she deftly fished another out of her quiver and loaded it. It sailed straight at him only for him to catch it. She could have sworn she heard him hiss as he broke it in his hand and stared into the dimmer shadows to find the assailant.

The time was enough and Emma grabbed the scroll, throwing the arrow down on the ground. By the time he gave up his search and returned his attention they were silently celebrating the move. "No matter," he continued gleefully. "The contract is more than a piece of paper and quite more resilient too." With another flick of his wrist he set the parchment ablaze, causing Emma to drop it hastily. "You will deliver me the child. There is no more time to waste."

"I won't," Regina said defiantly, sounding more teenager than formidable foe.

Clearly bored with arguing for his rights, the man is on the move again, a hopping step to the right and sending smoke in direction of Robin. "Incentive," he said jovially. Robin, still frozen in place was now beside David. "You have three minds about you that don't seem to care about reason and logic, but perhaps this might do the trick."

Responding to his waving hand, the thick rope that held up the round chandelier of blazing candles swung precariously close to the flames. To Emma and Regina's horror, it began to smoke and then orange and red glow of the fire on the braided strands became more evident.

"Think quickly," he said with a tilt of his head. "Time is of the essence."

 _One more note, I've had a few people ask about Henry. His true paternity will be revealed. As a matter of fact, that will be happening in the next chapter. Any ideas on how I plan to do it? I have been setting it up and brought us right to the brink of it with this chapter._

 _Love to read your thoughts and comments!_


	25. Chapter 25

**_This update has been a long time coming. I have written it three times, which have either been too awful to share or gotten erased by my evil computer. So here is the latest chapter. Big things are happening in Misthaven._**

 ** _Thanks for your patience and all your support!_**

At first Princess Emma was not sure if it was the smoke of the chandelier ties burning or something else, but smoke filled her vision and obscured the last of sight of her father and Killian who looked back at her with blank yet determined eyes. She felt a vile curse leaving her lips as the colored smoke of the Dark One's magic engulfed her and she vanished from the ballroom. Just as quickly the smoke dissipated and she was once again facing the Dark One, Regina to her left.

"What did you do?" she demanded, as if the explanation would do more than just confirm that he had magically spirited them away.

"You didn't seem capable of making a decision. I just hurried that along for you by taking away the distractions. The boy is behind that door, is he not? Regina will fetch him for me and you and I will summon my son. Easy as that."

"I won't," Regina said again, the words sounding more petulant than determined. "Why would you think we would help you after you left our loved ones in danger back there?"

"They won't be in peril if you cooperate. The contract doesn't state you must be happy about handing over Henry, just that you do so without reservation. So do it. I know that the thief means more to you than this child."

Closing her eyes in a brief blink of a moment, Emma tried to conjure up a connection between herself and Elsa. Save them, she tried to say to her friend. Save them before it's too late.

***AAA***

Snow dashed out and spun to face the other Queen with a desperate look on her face. "What just happened?" she demanded, as if her daughter's friend might have a better grip on the situation. "Where did he take them?"

Elsa blurted out that she assumed them to be in the nursery, perhaps retrieving Henry. However, Snow was on the move again, darting under the chandelier and attempting to move her husband who was still in a statue like state. Using all her might, she could not push him out of harm's way as the flames licked downward and sparks burnt small holes in clothing and left dots of soot on their skin. "Elsa, do something," she demanded again. "Help me!"

The blonde looked skyward as if assessing the fiery situation. Raising her hands, fingers pointed elegantly toward the rope, she shot out a stream of ice that seemed to freeze in spots and melt in others. The dripping water from the melting appeared to be extinguishing the flames. "It's not going to hold forever, but we bought a little time from it." Dropping to her knees, the blonde Queen began to instruct Snow on moving the men and women in the most direct danger.

As she personally dragged the seemingly lifeless body of Robin Hood out of the dangerous area, she waved her hand over him in her first attempt at revival. There was no response. She tried a few more times, varying the angle of hand and the way she enunciated the words of spells that Regina had spoken of during lessons with Emma. Nothing seemed to be helping, leaving the blonde Queen in a frustrated state. "Perhaps we should go and find them," she announced. "I'm just not that ready for this."

Snow knelt at her husband's side and held one of his large hands between hers. Seeming to breathe in a sigh of resolve, she lowered her lips to his and kissed him. However, unlike the time he woke her from a sleeping curse, her husband did not respond and his eyes stared blankly upward rather than toward her.

"It's not a curse," Elsa said, gathering her skirts in one hand and putting the other under Snow's bent arm to pull her up to standing. "True love's kiss will do nothing to help. We have to find Emma and Regina. We have to move, now. Your son is upstairs. He could be in danger."

Remembering Leo and Emma were at the whim of a madman seemed to spur the dark haired woman into action as she bolted up the stairs and nearly left Elsa behind her as she raced through the corridors on her way to where they might be waiting. It was Elsa who stopped her and pointed out that confronting Rumpelstiltskin head on was probably not in their best interest. "He'll only do to us what he did to the others. Emma used to speak of the passages and tunnels in this palace. I think I can even recall playing in one during a court session you and my parents had once. Do they exist?"

Snow nodded slowly, remembering the weekly drills with her daughter as they feared for their lives under Regina's reign. She could also remember the argument with David over what they should do with them once Regina's powers were no more. She had argued they were no longer necessary and only served to remind her of a terrible time in the kingdom's history. He had said they would be foolish to assume Regina was their only foe and threat to the kingdom, insisting that they keep them as security.

She almost sobbed as she threw back a tapestry, one that used to hang in her mother's dressing room and pressed on a series of stones set into the wall. Elsa offered no support or words as she did it, finding the right combination and pausing to reach for a torch in one of the hangers there in the hall. Elsa stepped in front and held her hands out similarly to how she had sent the ice skyward, but this time a stream of fire flowed forth.

"That's new," Snow commented as hustled along the hidden and uneven path. "Good job."

"Regina's lessons did not suit me, but I did learn that," she said, smiling a proud grin as she realized it had been useful.

***AAA***

Rumpelstiltskin looked at Emma crossly, his maniacal demeanor replaced with something more sinister as Regina continued to refuse him access to Henry. It made no sense to the Princess why he wouldn't just take the child, but for whatever reason he seemed to need permission and determined to get it.

"Is Henry the only way?" Emma asked, startling all three of them with the blunt question. "Is there no other way you can contact Baelfire, but with a child? Isn't there some other way? Some other child? Why this child? Why Henry?"

Rumpelstiltskin looked taken aback by the questions and waved his hand in front of the door, creating what looked like ripples on the wood. "The spell is broken, dearies. Get the boy." Emma did not bother to share a glance with Regina as she let the woman pass in front of her. She continued her hard stare at the impish man. "Don't try and get one of the others. I will know."

"You didn't answer my questions," Emma reminded him as Regina disappeared into the room. "Why Henry?"

"You're asking the wrong things, my dear. For you see, I am only trying to use the boy and you as a way to contact my son. You would do the same. Might have already had you known the way."

Besides confusion, she felt a sense of fear as his eyes became dark holes that showed her nothing human in his existence. She knew she had to protect Henry and the other children in the nursery, including her own brother. Allowing a madman to stand just outside the door and order one of them up was a terrifying prospect. For a moment she wondered if Regina had some sort of alternative. Perhaps she should have taught the woman about the different tunnels and passages, as she could have had time to escape with the children.

As if in slow motion, Rumpelstiltskin turned to the open door and took a step toward it. There was nothing tentative about it, but Emma felt herself wondering what he was going to do. Was he attempting to hurry Regina or was he going to somehow hurt the other boys. How would he react to seeing the guards and fairies lying in wait for him? She remained motionless as he raised the leathery like hands to that opening and sent a flash of reddish smoke in that direction. Expecting a scream or explosion, Emma only heard the sound of Regina's gasp of surprise and then the word no.

Even without the knowledge and understanding of what he had done, Emma lifted her own hands and the tingle of her magic felt more like a sting as the heavy wooden door slammed and a wall of magic appeared before it. As powerful as he was, Rumpelstiltskin flew backwards from the door's power and landed in a crumpled thud on the floor. Emma readied herself, tensing for the blow of magic that he would use against her. She had not planned to seal off the room that way, but he would not care about her intentions.

However, as he rose to his feet his expression was one of admiration rather than anger. "Impressive, dearie. I wonder though why you did it? Were you protecting the woman who terrorized your mother and this kingdom? Where did that loyalty come from?"

"I…"

"Or was it the boy? Do you care for that young boy that you would have your magic go up against the Dark One?" There was a relaxed way about him, as though he was merely conversing with her over tea and pastries.

"Why do you need Henry?" she asked, ignoring the sick feeling in her stomach. "How can he contact Baelfire?"

Those lifeless eyes studied her, calculating and assessing her with his knowledge and worry. "Perhaps it will be best to show you." Without more explanation, the smoke again enveloped her and for a moment she felt weightless and floating.

***AAA***

Granny cringed as the horses broke through the thicket and into the clearing that was still nearly half an hour from the palace. She hated to admit it, but she was slowing the group down. Each time she so much as shifted in her stance, they looked at her with concern and someone would suggest stopping for a rest. Digging her heels into the flank of the horse, she passed the two scouts on either side of her and fell into step with her granddaughter and the woman they had found in the Dark One's lair.

"The two of you should ride ahead," she told Red with a glance at the woman named Belle. "Take the huntsman with you and make haste for the castle. It'll be better that way."

"But Granny…"

"Widow Lucas, there is no need in splitting up. The journey back is not that long. They are not expecting us to be quick about it. We don't even have all that good of news for them. The box is enchanted. It will take something quite powerful to penetrate it."

The breath she exhaled was heavy and labored as she again readjusted her seat. Gripping the reins in her hand, she looked pleadingly at Red. "Go ahead. Snow needs you. Emma needs you. I can't get there as fast."

Red gave her grandmother a silent nod without argument and spurred on the horse. Belle and Graham followed suit. With Graham catching her easily, he asked what that was all about.

"My grandmother's health has been fragile," she explained. "Her mind is still sharp and her intuition better than most half her age, but she's ailing. She knows they need this box. We have to get it to them." Looking back to where Belle was a few steps behind them, she gave the frightened woman a smile. "I need you to think, Belle. How does he open the box?"

***AAA***

Snow and Elsa arrived in the nursery just as the outer door slammed shut and Regina crumpled to the ground with her left hand circling her wrist. Looking first for signs of blood, Snow began to direct the guards and fairies to move the children into the passageway. She tried her hardest to keep her expression soft for her son, squeezing his shoulder as he was pushed past her.

"Regina, tell us what happened," she said when she stooped down. Elsa was not asking any questions, rushing toward the door and studying it with intensity. "Regina?"

The woman said nothing but limply held up her right arm to show the return of a magical cuff, binding off her powers and removing any semblance of hope from her eyes. She let out a loud sob that Snow immediately hushed as she pulled the woman against her in a shielding hug.

"Henry's fine. He's with the others in the passage. Where's Emma?"

Through coughing sobs, Regina told what she knew that there had been one flash that bound her in the cuff and another that had sealed the door. Despite the pressing questions from Snow about her daughter, Regina could offer nothing in terms of knowledge about her safety and whereabouts. Guiltily, Snow turned her face toward Elsa.

"Two different kinds of magic," Elsa explained as she ran the tips of her fingers over the leather bind. "I am guessing he did this." Feeling the prickles of shock as she tried to remove the leather, she frowned. "We'll deal with this later. I need your help with the others downstairs. They need us."

Snow looked torn as the three now descended back through the passage, her comfort to her son weak as she dashed and prayed that she could explain later. Regina was in barely enough condition to speak to Henry or Roland, her eyes wide and frightened. At one point she muttered that they had made a mistake in taking on the Dark One. Snow wasn't sure that she could disagree.

***AAA***

Emma wasn't even in the palace when Killian, her father, Robin, and the various guests were awakened by Elsa under Regina's tutelage. If Snow had any lingering doubts about Killian's feelings toward her daughter, she squelched them when she had to pull him back to the group with the explanation that they would find her but that for now they didn't know where to start.

"Forgive me for saying so, your majesty, but your bloody plan put her in danger when this was not her fight. Regina should be the one facing off against him not Emma. I should have done more. I shouldn't have let her…"

"It wasn't your choice," David said, stepping between his wife and the pirate. "Emma knew. We all knew…"

"And what did it get us? She would do anything for your approval and yet you stand here grateful for your survival and not caring that she is gone. That mad man could be very well having her for dinner, feeding her to some dragon, and you're wanting to wait and see if she sends us a sign."

"He wouldn't do that," a new voice said, her clear tone married to a slight tremble as she spoke. "I'm quite sure he wouldn't hurt her. He needs her to reach his son."

Regina was caressing the right temple of Robin, soothing the slight burn from earlier without the magic she would have preferred to have used. Whipping her face to the new voice, she sneered. "And how would you know that? I thought we sent everyone else on their way."

It was Snow who stepped forward, looking at the woman's dark hair that escaped from her cloak and her soft, pale skin that appeared almost translucent under duress. "Who are you?"

The woman said her name was Belle, offering no other information until it was Red's attempts to explain. In hurried and broken sentences Red attempted to explain, the woman next to her practically silent and shaking in the dimly lit room. When it came to the part about the box, Red tried to describe the magic that protected it and that it would take something quite powerful to break the spell.

"He doesn't trust…he doesn't trust people," Belle said as they looked at the wooden rectangle. "I've only ever seen him open it. A man once tried and the power of the blast killed him. I don't know how it works."

Regina and Elsa pushed back the others, each taking a different angle over it and letting their eyes memorize the carving and simple looking metal latch. They ignored Snow's pleading to know what it was they were looking at and pretended they didn't hear Killian's arguments that it was just a box. Belle was trying to explain that it was more than that, as it protected the dagger.

"If we have the dagger, we can command the Dark One. We can bring Emma back to us." David said those words aloud, but nobody really knew who he was addressing. It seemed an obvious thing to say.

"What the bloody hell are we waiting on?" Killian asked, his eyes narrow and tight on the delicate lock. "It's hardly impenetrable. I've broken through trickier locks than that in my slumber. Are we really standing about fretting over a simple lock?"

"The pirate's right," Elsa said, extending two fingers toward the metal lock. She did not feel the sting of the protective magic, but instead the slap of Regina's hand knocking her own fingers out of the way. "I can open a simple box. He didn't permanently close it. He still needs the dagger."

"It might as well be permanent," Regina scolded, looking to Belle for confirmation. "There is no key? It's blood magic, isn't it?"

Belle, as many of them, had never heard the term before and waited for an explanation. When it came it was clear that Regina was correct. The lock was not mechanically inclined, as it required Rumpelstiltskin's hand or that of his family to open. David pointed out that the only known blood relative was Baelfire, who was currently missing.

"That's convenient," Regina snarked, her chin jutting out as she spun around to face her former stepdaughter. "Any other plans?"

Snow looked distressed as she clasped her hands over David's arm. "There has to be a way," she said, not believing that she was again helpless to stop someone from trying to hurt her oldest child. "I won't give up."

"Nobody is expecting us to," David said firmly. "I'm calling together my best scouts and guards. Graham instruct them that no corner of this kingdom is to be left unturned until you find Emma and the Dark One. Regina, you, Belle, and Elsa search every book in the palace libraries until you find a way to break through that blood magic spell. Killian, you, Robin, and Red put together a list of places that we should concentrate our searches. Snow and Red are good trackers and can follow those along with the scouts." The King continued his directives, assigning responsibilities to everyone and sending out the first wave to bring in Granny and the others who had taken a slower pace.

"I will send word to my crew to be on the hunt for the Dark One," Killian said as he and Red headed for the maps that were being unfurled upon one of the tables. "Smee was able to track him and his lair once. I can only hope that he can do so again."

Snow smiled gratefully at him as she retreated from the room. Her ashen face looked to have aged with the fear of losing her daughter. David knew exactly where she had gone, as she disappeared into the passageway and emerged with the three boys. She took the time to hug her son, allowing Regina and Robin a moment to do the same.


	26. Chapter 26

**_Not to long of a wait for this installment and congrats to those who have guessed how Henry's paternity is going to be revealed. I hope you enjoy this chapter!_**

The protective dome of the spell that Elsa cast around the palace hummed with magic that Killian had to admit turned his stomach a fair bit. For as long as he could remember he had avoided magic and the dark implications of it as well as the good. It was Emma who had shown him that not all magic was deadly or dastardly. As his finger trailed down the hand drawn line demarking a river on the map, he tried to even his breathing.

The maps were rolled out on a heavy planked table that could have been in any household big enough to hold it, as the rough wood was hardly fit for royalty. Robin had left Snow and Red there with Killian as he and Graham set out with a group of the scouts to look for any changes or signs in the landscape that might indicate the Princess's location. While Killian had scoffed that the Dark One rarely left clues, he had sent up a silent prayer of hope that for once he would be wrong.

"They've been gone a long time," Snow said from her position across the table. It did still startle him to see her in that more casual way. Her legs were in leather trousers rather than a long skirt and her over layer of a coat cinched at the waist in the soft leather that matched her boots. While Emma had said the Queen used to be a bandit on the run from Regina, he did not think he could imagine her looking quite that way. The similarities to David's first run in with her being one where she was not in all her stately finery to his similar first glance at Emma was not lost on the pirate.

"That could," Red consoled, "be seen as a good sign. Perhaps they are on the verge of finding something and bringing Emma back to us." Red's eyes looked tired as she measured out the route she was considering at that moment. Killian could see from her frustrated but brief closing of her eyes that her mind had fogged with the need for sleep. He had gently suggested that she take her leave for the evening and start afresh in the morning, but that was met with a resounding and bitter refusal.

Snow was often described by her subjects as a beacon of hope, as her speeches to the populace had carried through that theme even in her younger years. While Killian had never actually sat through such an event as her or David's addresses to the kingdom, he was familiar with the concept and had heard people speak of her in terms of her optimistic nature. Even Emma had mentioned it as a way that she was not quite equal to her mother's ability to reign as brightness did not come naturally to her demeanor and countenance. So as the mother of two stood there earlier and told him that she needed him to contact his crew, he had done so not out of obligation to the crown as his earlier self would have done. He instead had done so out of the anticipation that the act would somehow bring back the Queen's expectation that all would be well once again.

Red had not mentioned the King again since the earlier question was greeted by exasperated and angry tears by Snow. Her guilt was on full display that she had asked her eldest child and only daughter to play such a dangerous and volatile role in the evening's proceedings. Both Killian and Red had hidden themselves away in this conference area upon the loud and riotous exchange between the King and Queen earlier that evening.

"We shouldn't have let her do this," Snow had loudly said to her husband. "She was only doing it because we told her that it was her duty. She should be home safe in her bed instead of facing the Dark One's power. This fight had nothing to do with her and yet she could be a casualty of it. And why? All because Regina begged for our help."

David's own guilt was evident as he pleaded that they must find her rather than dwell on the possibilities that they might never see her again. Blame was for the hopeless, he had told her in that stern voice that he rarely used outside commanding troops.

"Perhaps we should consider those other maps. I realize they are not as complete, but they do contain some of the lesser traveled areas." Killian's suggestion was met with a silent agreement by both women. Holding steady with his emotions tucked safely inside, he managed to unroll another map as they each took to studying it in their respective regions. Such analysis seemed to breed time to think and sulk over the details in his mind, as reading charts and maps were the mindless activities of a captain of his experience.

Just hours before she had been in his arms, gliding across a dance floor with the denizens of Misthaven wondering just who he was and how he had won the favor of the Princess. He had not cared what they thought, only that they continued to love and respect the woman who he was clinging to as though she were the safety line in a storm. If he breathed in hard enough he could still catch the scent of her that had tickled his nose and made him imagine what it would be like to have woken with that scent drifting over him and her body next to his. That was a bold use of his imagination and one that would probably have him strung up even in light of the better relations between himself and Emma's parents, but one that he could not help but revisit.

"I feel caged just sitting here looking over maps," Red protested, interrupting all their thoughts. "Snow, we both know I can track them. Just let me go."

The Queen's eyes fluttered shut, her arms holding her up over the long map as she breathed in and out with measured consistency. "Red, it was magic. You can't track that. He didn't just run away with her."

There was no hesitation in Red's eyes as lowered the hood of her cloak that had fallen forward in her study of the map. "I can find her. You're just worried how it would look for the kingdom to know you were consorting with a werewolf. That's it?"

"Red, please." The Queen spun around and stared out the three windows that were opposite of them. The lanterns and torches that had earlier brightened the path were burnt down to nothing and the overwhelming blackness of the landscape had blanketed the view out of the leaded glass. "My daughter is out there with the most evil man doing who knows what to her. She could be dead right now. I will and have used everything at my disposal to get her back. Your going off and running through the woods in wolf form will only serve to scare people in the surrounding villages and very likely get you killed. Don't add to the blood of this evening."

To Killian's eyes Red did appear a bit contrite as Snow walked out with the muttered excuse of checking the progress of the others. However, he knew that she would probably steal off to look in on the sleeping children, having said earlier that was her only peace in all this. No one begrudged her that, as it seemed for many of them that the fact Henry was safe was the only bright side to all that had happened.

"She's fighting her way back to you," Red told him when they were alone in the room. "I know she is. No matter what he has promised her he will do or how much she may wish to give up, she's got to know you are there for her."

"It doesn't feel quite enough," he said, retracing a route with his index finger. "Forgive me for not hanging my hat on dreams and hopes, Red. It has never served me well in the past. I am a man who fights for what he wants, not one who sits about and waits for opportunities and talk of strategy."

She probably did not expect him to embrace her comforting words, so his response slid off her with little issue. There was a moment of silence as she rechecked her calculation before grimacing. "If we have the bit of luck on our side, I don't doubt that you will be afforded that chance to fight for her."

Both worked in silence a bit longer, the only conversation hints and tips that Killian could throw her way about reading the charts in front of them. While never formally schooled or trained, he had been picking up on the skills since childhood and foraged quite a set of them in his service to the navy and again as a pirate. Though much had changed since his childhood, he stuck with the tried and true techniques and relied upon his own knowledge and hand than some of the newer instruments that some sailors had taken to using.

When the door opened a bit later, Killian was expecting Snow to have returned a bit battle weary but determined to continue the search for Emma. He had been thinking of things he could say to her in comfort, but none seemed quite appropriate. And while Emma's father seemed a much more stoic force than his beautiful wife, he somehow felt himself fearing her a bit more when it came to being in the family's graces. He wondered if it was because Emma was so like her that he assumed she might know of his designs on the Princess and better understand them than even David.

However, it was the other Queen that entered, a dusty tome in her hands with pages so fragile that they threatened to turn to dust themselves as she plopped it atop the map laden table. "I think I found something," she said, looking pointedly at Red. "The woman, Belle, is sleeping so I thought you might be the best to show this to now."

Red did not offer any encouragement other than the arch of her brow so Elsa began to read from the faded copy in a halting voice. Killian quickly realized that she was translating the script from its native language into one they would all understand. The words were obtuse and flowery, lending more to literature than geography. After all, who could truly believe that a flowering bush that existed in the time of the author's penned work still existed? Yet still they knew more of that that flower and its two toned petals than they did of the place it spoke about in less detail.

"A vault?" Killian asked, trying out the word as though it would conjure some image in his mind. It did not. All he could see was the fear he had seen in Emma's eyes as the Dark One had put him and her father in danger the night before. He wanted to swear to himself that if given the opportunity, she would never again experience that fear or doubt. He would see to it.

Elsa nodded, waving him over with her hand as she pointed out the unfamiliar text on the page. "It says that it comes up from the ground as natural as the rocks and trees that surround it. A small clearing gives way to its locked entrance that only opens upon the right sequence or the birth of a new Dark One."

"Where the bloody hell are we supposed to find that?"

***AAA***

Emma's eyes readjusted to the dark eventually, but the coldness of the stone around her made the woman shiver more out of temperature than fear. The boldness of her red gown seemed to have become duller as the night had worn on and she had watched without a word as Rumpelstiltskin had merrily danced around what seemed to her an underground laboratory of some kind. Hidden compartments seemed to litter the intricate stonework and his machinations indicated that he knew the location and contents of them all. Never was a step or movement wasted as he moved through seemingly choreographed steps.

"I'm sure you have questions, dearie," he said, startling her with his attention. She wondered if he even remembered that she was there. "You want to try?"

"Try what?" Her voice sounded strained and hoarse, her lips and throat parched. "I don't understand any of this."

In his hand was what appeared to be a simple rock, smooth and worn by weather and time. He flipped it in his palm, showing her the unremarkable surface. "Your hand," he said to her, not bothering with pleasantries or formality. "Your hand."

Shakily she extended her trembling hand toward his. "Like this?" she asked, not sure why she was obeying without protest. As her hand was situated over his, she felt a burning sensation and heard a distinct hum from what she could only assume was the stone. She kept it there as long as she could until the burn of it stung her flesh. "What is that?"

"It's a conduit," he explained. "It's how we are going to bring my son back. Your magic and love for him will have to be enough. Otherwise I'll dispose of you and go back for Henry."

***AAA***

Morning brought very little news in terms of the search. Killian had slept only a few moments when Snow had insisted, claiming that his bleary eyes were bringing her pain. The frank way she had instructed him was half Emma and half mother, both of which he missed more than he could even say.

Elsa's discovery in the book had brought a moment of excitement, but that was tempered with the knowledge that without the dagger they were helpless. It was David and Killian that had agreed on that, knowing that Emma's whereabouts were only one piece to a puzzle that seemed to have varying shapes and challenges.

"Anything?" Elsa asked, a cup of tea in front of her untouched. Snow had her servants deliver the hot liquid to them all that morning, but from the looks of things there was no interest in it.

He raked his single hand over his features, the growth of his beard more noticeable against his palm. Emma would have teased him for it, calling him wooly or barbaric. And while he would have rolled his eyes at her accusation, he would have found the nearest blade to remedy the problem. If she desired it, he would shave himself clean for her touch. He only hoped he still had the chance to ask her about her preference.

"I feel that we are squandering our time," he said with a frustrated flick of his wrist. "There is no greater sin."

"No, there really isn't," she agreed, the book in her hand creating a cloud of dust that mingled with the errant snowflakes around her as she closed it. "I came here because no one should face a demon alone. Emma taught me that. We are not islands that exist next to each other but without connection. And yet I feel so isolated. Emma is missing. Regina is so angry that I cannot speak to her. Everyone stares upon me as if I must have the solution. I don't. I have not a single solution to this horrible debacle."

"I look to you for no more guidance than I look to myself, your majesty. Emma was concerned about this from the start. I did not protect her. I did not stop her from doubting." For a pirate to admit his own insecurity was a feat, but for a captain like Killian Jones, he was sure that he had never done so since raising the crimson flag. He wondered if it might be more than cathartic.

Elsa clicked her tongue sympathetically as she pushed the drink away and reached for another of the books when she heard approaching steps. The King appeared in the doorway with his hand resting steadily on the brace of his sword. Giving the room a quick once over, he shook his head.

"The waters of guilt run high in this river," David said, as he stepped down the two stairs into the sunken room. He regarded the discarded maps and books that had proven fruitless and the dwindling piles of resources still left for inspection. "That's what my mother used to say when I would have a pity for myself."

"From your wife's tale of it, your mother was a special woman," Elsa said in her subdued tone. "Bright and innovative. We could use her now."

"Without a doubt," David said. "I've been sent to fetch you all. Granny Lucas and Snow have decided that our work needs to pause for a morning meal."

Killian was about to brush that request off when David looked him dead in the eyes. "We don't argue with Granny or my wife. I will make the suggestion that you do not either if you wish to be a party to rescuing my daughter." It was the closest that David came to welcoming Killian's assistance.

So without much more fuss the group reassembled in the smaller of the formal dining rooms and munched listlessly on fruit and sweet cakes between sips of coffee and tea. Snow and Granny spoke of the word they had received from far corners of the kingdom, other entities offering support and prayers. Even Regina's own half sister, a full realm away had heard of the debacle and offered a troop of flying monkeys to search. While Regina rejected it on principle, Snow said they would take whatever assistance they could get.

Conversation was muted a bit with the arrival of Leo, Henry, and Roland. None of the adults had mentioned Emma's disappearance or the Dark One's plans, but children were known to sense tension and the three boys were no exception. Roland had taken to patting Regina's arm before he began to eat his breakfast and Henry had pointedly asked her why she was so sad. Leo was more silent and watched with wide green eyes as the others spoke in riddles. There were no easy answers, even for children's ears so when they finished their quick meal, the boys were dismissed to play.

"Stay within the palace walls and do not disturb anyone," Snow instructed as Johanna took two steps to their every scamper to keep up with them.

***AAA***

"Almost ready," Rumpelstiltskin said, a steady fire between him and the Princess of Misthaven. He added a few more things, the rock that he had held earlier off to the side. The flames licked upward and changed color as drops of unknown substances were poured over the fire. He seemed to be counting them, his lips moving without sound. "Are you?"

"What do I have to do?" Emma asked, her eyes staring more at the fire as she rubbed the palm that still seemed to hurt. "Why can't you do it alone?"

He paused then, rubbing this tips of his fingers against his thumbs. His lips ran tight over his teeth as he sneered at her. "Questions of why are not useful. We should ask how and learn from the process."

She rolled her eyes. "Then how does this work. How are you unable and I am?"

His fingers ran over his chest where his heart beat underneath. Dark and singed by evil and wickedness, it still thumped even after all the years of his existence surpassed human possibility. "Baelfire will have to be open to the communication, open to hearing the voice from the other end."

"And you think he wants to hear from me?" she asked, her brow furrowing. She could not bring herself to ask why this man would think that Henry would be able to do this task. How would he have the ability to reach a man he didn't know? Baelfire was gone before Henry was even born. It all weighed upon her. "He left me. I don't think he would want to hear my voice."

"You might be surprised."

***AAA***

Leo's hand swiped the compass off the map and held it close to his chest. "I told you," he said to Henry. "I told you he was a pirate."

Hair falling in front of his brown eyes, Henry stared at the circular object in Leo's grasp. "Is he truly?"

"I heard my parents say he was," the older boy hissed back, darting over to the corner near the thick velvet curtains. They had earlier declared it their home base, a place where they could regroup from scavenging. So far they had pilfered two candle sticks, a plate with an uneaten piece of cake, and a lady's earring probably dropped during the ball. The compass was added to the loot. "I heard my father say it and say that he was not fit for a princess."

Henry scrunched his nose. "What does that mean?"

"I don't know. I think that they are worried that my sister and Killian may love each other. I guess my dad worries that my sister might go away with Killian on his boat if that is true."

"He has a boat?" Roland asked excitedly, his eyes still trained on the cake that he was clearly eating with his mind. "Like a real boat?"

"A ship," the older boy clarified, though he would struggle to tell the difference. "He's a captain. A pirate captain."

Henry looked back at Leo in awe, trying to reconcile this information with the man who had been lurking about with Emma over the past few weeks. He did not seem as scary as the tales of pirates in books, but still there was something quite dangerous about the man. "Do you think he ever buried a treasure?"

"I bet he did around here," Leo said. "That's why he's hanging about. He's just waiting for the right time to dig it up." It did the young boy some good to have the two younger ones hanging on his every word as he said the maps there in the corner were probably treasure maps and marked with an x where the treasure would lie.

"In a chest," Roland added to the story was spinning. "Lots of gold."

"Of course," Leo approved. "I bet if we look for it and find it, then Killian will share it with us."

The younger boys nodded solemnly, their eyes darting about the room for a clue. It was Henry who spotted it first, the nondescript wooden box on the far table. It was not the sort of thing that would normally catch a boy's attention, but the idea of a pirate's loot and treasure were prominent. He rose up from his knees and catapulted in front of Roland to reach it first. "I found it!"

Leo was three steps behind when shards of magic from the lock dissipated in front of them. With a glowing aura from inside the lid of the box opened with a slowness that seemed to build the anticipation of its contents. And with three boys staring into its depths, six eyes fell upon the wavy edged dagger with the inscription reading Rumpelstiltskin.


	27. Chapter 27

"I am the true king," Henry announced, holding the dagger as a sword and waving the blade at the other two boys. "I will rule the kingdom and all will fear me." He took a clumsy step forward, almost nicking Leo.

Roland stretched onto his toes, frowning at the dagger. "What does it say?" he asked, "Look there on it. It's got letters." His own lessons in reading had not ever included a word that large. "Henry?"

"It says I'm the true king." Henry gave his brother an exasperated grunt. "And this is my sword."

Leo narrowed his eyes at the boy. "It's not a sword, Henry, it's a dagger. Why was it locked up in that box?" Ignoring the threat of a sharp weapon in his way, the young Prince brushed past him to return to the box that lay open on the table. "The lock is broken. How did you do that?"

"I'm the true king," Henry insisted, looking to Roland for back up. He found no collaboration there, as Roland was already trailing a finger over the spines of the books and pondering aloud which one had his favorite story. Hardly interested in play where he was not the center, he was ignoring the bickering of his brother and new friend in favor of a more sedate activity.

"Leopold," Johanna called as she entered the cavernous room. "You are not to play all day. You've got your lessons, including archery practice today. You've missed far too much time with all the hullabaloo about the estate. Now where did you get off to with yourself?"

The short woman wore her typical working dress covered in an apron that helped her keep the fabric clean. It was not that unusual a uniform for one of the staff. Her graying hair was wound tightly under a kerchief that Snow and Emma thought must be somehow attached to her head since she was never seen without it. "Leopold?"

The boy's green eyes shone with frustration as he gestured for his younger acquaintances to be quiet. It was useless as her well trained gaze landed right on him and she waved him over feverishly. "The family will be coming back here to work any minute," she scolded lightly. "You don't want to be in the way, now do you?"

The fine act and balance of being a governess for the royal family was one she had done for generations. She had diapered Snow when she was a young lass herself and come to love the Queen and her daughter as if they were her own children. Now in an age where most would be retired, she stayed on with the family to help in the education of the young Prince. Few things surprised her, having spent so much time chasing after Snow and filling in when Ava died and Regina did not want much to do with the future Queen. With Emma it was a monumental task, as Emma was more rambunctious and headstrong than even her mother had been. However, seeing Leo in front of that open box and the young Henry holding the Dark One's dagger, she felt bile rise in her throat.

"Put that down!"

Henry's dark eyes grew frighteningly wide as the wavy edged weapon clattered to the floor. He immediately apologized, not yet knowing what it was that he had done so horribly wrong. Stammering, his eyes brimmed with tears. "I didn't mean any harm."

Shakily she breathed in and stooped to scoop up the dagger. She was not all that aware of the situation with the Dark One, having only heard snippets. Her place was with the young children, but the sight of the dagger had scared her. She had heard tales of it from a young age, as her own parents had threatened her with the dangers of the Dark One if she did not behave. The long blade was just as she had imagined it. She gasped as she ran a finger gingerly over the engraving.

"I didn't know it was someone's," Henry said before wailing in sorrowful agony. He buried his face into the governess's side as she dropped her free hand to soothe his back. "I'm sorry. So sorry."

Leo stood shocked as the woman who had seen as stoic and rock like became emotionally compromised. There was nothing he could do but stare as she gathered Henry and beckoned him to bring Roland along with her. "We need to bring this to your mothers."

***AAA***

It was a hazy image, Emma thought as she stared through something that appeared to be water to see a man standing there with his face obscured by the wavering lines of her sight. He was tall and lanky with distinctive features that she knew at once were those of Baelfire. Hands in that position he always stood, the sight of him made her heart beat faster in her chest as she tried to make sense of the image before her.

"He's in another realm," Rumpelstiltskin said to her, his voice a bit smoother and without the theatrics of earlier. He was looking into the depths too, watching the man he knew as his son. From Baelfire's stories of his childhood, she knew that this was not the only time they had been separated. Years that did not pass in the same way had taken their toll on him as he had spent time in Neverland. Maybe that had been part of the reason that he had looked so haunted when he learned of her magic, so pained when she told him she was born with it. "A land without magic."

That may have been what the Dark One thought, but as she spied things like horseless carriages at fast speeds and lights without fire, she knew that there was no other explanation than magical intervention. "Can he hear us?" she asked, naturally curious about the voyeuristic magic. "If I spoke to him."

"That's the next part." He took a step backwards, smiling almost nostalgically. "You thought he was your true love, didn't you? That would have been the greatest magic of all. The true love of the product of true love. Unstoppable, really."

"It wasn't." With those two words she felt the regret of it all seep over her. It seemed that whatever it was with Baelfire was never enough; she was never enough. She wasn't good enough to win the ribbons and idols that her mother had at dressage. She wasn't good enough to rule the kingdom alone, as the elders on the council wanted to see her married off.

"No, it wasn't."

"Was it for you?" she asked, feeling a bit bolder at the sadness that had seeped across his demonic features. "Did you ever know true love?"

"I know the hope of it. That can be almost as powerful. We are all hopeful creatures deep down. We wait for true love, hope that what we have will become that elusive thing. All the while it can slip through your fingers when you aren't watching." He wiggled his digits in her direction. "It's the most powerful magic in the world; the only one powerful enough to break any curse and transcend realms. And yet we treat it like it is so common that you can find it with anyone."

"But if I didn't have it with Baelfire and you don't have it, then how are we to contact him? Won't we fail?"

He laughed that familiar giggle of manic opulence. "Long ago, dearie, your father helped me protect the magic of the true love that he shares with your mother. Just a few drops really, but it is a treasure. My magic can allow us to see Baelfire, but you, my dear will go to the belly of the beast to release that magic and get us to him."

***AAA***

Johanna's hurried shuffles were overlooked by Snow and Regina from the parlor. Their conversation had become heated since breakfast.

"I don't see why you won't send for her if you think she can help," Snow argued. The two half-sisters barely spoke and even more rarely acknowledged each other. From the little that Snow had gleaned from Cora all those years ago, Zelena was a natural conduit of magic and had not been formally trained by Rumpelstiltskin as Regina and Cora had been. It made her magic dangerous and powerful, but without filter or restraint.

"She will want payment of some kind. And we don't really have anything she would care to have." The lack of sleep was clearly affecting Regina, who wore dark circles under her eyes and did not seem to carry herself in the same regal way that usually seemed so severe. "I don't know that it is worth the risk."

Snow was about to tell her that she was beyond weighing risks in regards to rescuing her daughter when her concentration was broken. Like a shot of lead, she felt Leo throw himself into her, his face buried into her neck as he used to do as a toddler and infant. "What is the matter?"

Johanna half curtsied and bowed her head more in habit than respect at that moment. "The boys were playing and somehow opened the box you and the King were trying to keep secure. Milady there is a dagger…" She pulled it out from behind her apron, holding it unsteadily before the Queen. "I think you best take it."

***AAA***

David paced in between the small space of the windows and the edge of the table as Red again asked Belle if she had any idea where the location of this vault could be at in the forest. The woman had far more patience than he did in that moment, as he was tempted to throw the contents of the table onto the floor to scream at her until she gave in and told all she knew. To her credit, Belle remained remarkably strong as the eyes of a pirate, a King, a Queen, and werewolf bore into her with such pleading hope that it would make most flinch or cry at the pressure.

"I wish I knew," she said, her eyes lowering to her folded hands. "I want to talk to him. I can help him see that this isn't the way. He needs to understand that he…"

"Love, he needs far more than a lecture on decorum," Killian blurted out, his balled fist hitting the table.

A strong hand clasped Killian's shoulder. "Don't frighten her," he said. "She's our best shot right now."

Elsa was pacing on the other end of the table, the tips of her fingers glittering as frost formed around her. "Where is the Dark One's vault, though? Someone must have seen it over the years."

"The only tale I've heard is that one must conquer the infinite forest in order to retrieve it." Red looked in David's direction. "You got through it once, didn't you?"

"With the help, if you can call it that, of Rumpelstiltskin."

***AAA**

Regina had seen it before, but holding it was another thing all together. She ran her fingers over the engraving and thought back to the things he had taught her. Every bit of it felt useless now as she was cuffed from using magic. Even Elsa had not been able to remove his bindings.

"Leo," Snow said, forcing a smile at her young son who was clearly becoming upset at the strange way the adults were reacting. "Would you and Roland please go back to the private quarters? I think that we need a little time." Her voice and hands trembled uncontrollably as she closed her eyes and drew in her breath. Her son said nothing as the two boys retreated.

"Henry," Regina said to the wide eyed boy in front of her. "I want to tell me exactly how you opened the box. Nobody's mad, darling. We just want to know how it happened."

Darting his eyes toward Snow and then Regina, Henry sunk lower into the plush chair. "I just put my hand on it and it opened." There was small lisp to his words, reminding both women of just how young he was. "I didn't mean to…"

Regina blanched under the warm sunshine, her dark hair a strong contrast. She gripped the back of the chair in front of her and tried with silent desperation to steady herself. She licked her red lips, the words to soothe the little boy failing her as she grasped for them.

"You did a good thing," Snow said, using the benefit of her leather trousers to kneel next to him as would have been impossible in her long gown. "Because of you, we can bring my daughter home. You did a wonderful thing, Henry." Her arm rested loosely over his shoulders as he looked up to Regina for confirmation. She could only nod in return. "Why don't you join the others in the nursery?"

Henry scampered away with Johanna, his step lighter in the wake of the praise he had received. Snow watched as the door closed behind them, her demeanor flipping immediately. The Queen dove for the dagger, holding it in her hands and thrusting it outward. "Tell me how to do this."

"Call for the others first," Regina said, her breathing sounding like sniffles. "We need their assistance. Once we summon him, we're going to have to keep control. I would assume you and David have a plan in place for this. You did have him locked up at one point."

"Yes, he was captured back before you and he attempted the curse." Snow recalled, ringing a bell to beckon one of the maids to gather everyone together. "It worked for a while."

"I thought I recalled that. We're going to have to move quickly. This dagger can force him to do our bidding, including telling us where Emma is located. However, you and I both know that if there is a loophole in its power over him, he will find it. We have to get this done before he can do that."

Snow nodded. "And we also will have to discuss Henry."

"I don't have any answers, Snow," Regina said. "I suppose it is possible that Henry is somehow related to Rumpelstiltskin. Probable even, given that he broke through blood magic. The question is how."

***AAA***

Killian read the note from Smee for a second time before casting it aside. The man was an abysmal speller and offered little in the way of hope for finding any trace of the Dark One. While he promised to do his best, his news included that many of the trusted men of the crew had taken up with other ships or retired from pirating all together.

It was Elsa that found him with the news that Snow was summoning them. Her face softened as his became an insincere image of himself. Her hands, still bitterly cold, reached out to snag the note from him. "May I?"

He nodded his consent. "Nothing to hide, your highness."

She skimmed the note briefly and folded it back. "It's hard," she said, placing it back under his fingers. "Ruling requires that you earn the trust and loyalty of your subjects. I would assume that being a captain of a ship is the same."

"Pirates are not known for their commitment."

"Perhaps not, but you earned it, didn't you? Emma mentioned that some of them had been with you for an unnaturally long time."

"Aye, perhaps too long it would seem." Had he not spent so many years in Neverland, he and his crew would have had a much more natural life. There was something odd about out living almost everyone you had ever known. Each trip he took back to the Enchanted Forest or other kingdoms took on news of the passing of former friends and colleagues. Suddenly he had only been left with his crew, who were not exactly family but a close substitute. "I don't know that I can blame them for their desire for other aspects of life."

"Come now," Elsa said with a firm swipe of her hand. "I am sure that Queen Snow has summoned us for a reason."

***AAA***

"You wish me to fight a dragon," Emma said incredulously, the weight of the sword he handed her heavier than expected. "If you had taken Henry, would you have expected the same?"

"Of course not. Henry would have no issue in contacting my son, as there is a tie there that even Baelfire's fear and your magic cannot sever." He watched her, studying the way she processed the information he had given her.

"I think you need to tell me what is going on here. Why would Henry have any tie to Baelfire? Who is Henry?" Her eyes flashed with an angry storm and showed none of the gentleness that most princesses wore like armor. Her golden hair had been clipped and pinned up so nicely now hung long down her back to her waist and the red ball gown was replaced by the heavy material of a work dress and patched cape.

Rumpelstiltskin again allowed the façade of his maniacal confidence to slip as he looked back at the hazy image of Baelfire in what he had called the land without magic. "Henry is my grandson," he commented. The startling truth seemed much more dramatic than his usual riddles and innuendos of dark magic and danger.

"He's Baelfire's son?" she asked, trying to recall anything that he had said about another child. It made no sense to her. The truth of the matter was so far removed from her in that moment that it might have never come to her alone.

"And yours."

***AAA***

His mouth was still forming around the letters when they summoned him, his eyes readying for her reaction that was sure to be one he would not want to miss. She would not understand at first. She would question and doubt, but she deserved to know. He was not all that sure that she would be able to defeat Maleficent and regain the drops of true love that would send him to the other realm and to his own son. While she clearly was powerful enough in terms of magic, he had some doubts about her frame of mind when it came to killing.

He blinked rapidly as thought thrust into the daylight after a long night of silken darkness. No friendly faces looked upon him, but that was no surprise given his lack of personal relationships. His eyes landed first on the King, a shepherd he had helped squire away to become prince after his brother had died. The man, hiding behind what seemed a false sense of bravado was holding the dagger in his hands.

"How did you get that?" he seethed, jumping back when David ordered him to do so. They weren't really offering any explanation and the questions began in earnest.

"Where is Emma?"

"Is she well?"

"Did you harm her?"

He answered them as David repeated the questions, the pull of the dagger requiring his complete obedience. Try as he wished, he could not overcome it even with riddles and half truths. He spoke of the plans to summon his son, his need for the potion that lay in the chest of the dragon where David had left it upon orders.

Regina was the one in the room who remained silent, only speaking long enough to instruct Elsa on how to render the Dark One powerless toward hurting them. She did not make eye contact with the impish man, her breathing coming in labored bits though she tried to hide that. He could use that to his advantage, as she seemed less harried and desperate as the rest of them. Clearly she had summarized the paternity of the boy she was raising, but it seemed she had not shared this insight yet.

"You're going to lock me up again," he said without framing it as a question. "In a cage."

It was Snow who walked closest to him, her eyes seething and barely concealing the worry. "You," she said, as if she could not form the syllables of his name, "are going to get back my daughter. And then we'll deal with you."

***AAA***

On more than one occasion Killian's brother had called him brash and unthinking. It was never meant as a compliment, as the younger brother had always reacted without truly understanding the consequences. He ran on emotion and passion, not strategy. It would, he had assumed, eventually be his downfall. So it was no more a surprise to him than anyone that he and the King were the two sent to Emma.

"Why can't you just bring her here?" Elsa asked the Dark One with a suspicious eye turned toward him. "You know, use your magic."

There was little sense in his explanation. But as others pointed out, he must be telling the truth since the demands of him while holding the dagger gave no results. There was no going against that sort of magic.

David had kissed his wife swiftly before ordering his staff to bring him fresh horses for himself, Red, Graham, and Killian and that they would be riding within the hour. Never mind that rain had begun to fall in sheets or that the way marked for them was not anything to go into unprepared.

"You'll have me stay here?" Robin asked of David, looking out at the darkening sky. "With the women?"

"I assure you that it is not a punishment. I think that you are best equipped to temper Regina. She is likely to want to do something to regain her magic, even if it means going against Rumpelstiltskin. So if you could…"

Killian wasn't sure why he did not have to fight for his own role, but he was not going to second guess it. Even going along as second fiddle to the King was a better option. Granny had eyed him wearily as she provided him a rucksack of provisions and with only her eyes warned him that he must not do anything to jeopardize the King or Emma's safety. That was what mattered, he told himself. He would deal with the rest later when Emma was safely in the circle of her parents' protection. At that point he could begin to win over the royal couple or go on his way, whichever Emma chose as her wish.

"It's not called the Endless Forest for nothing," Red cautioned as she mounted one of the horses, ignoring convention and sitting astride with her eyes flashing at the horrified expression of Johanna. "I'd rather help guide you than sit about and wait."

Snow had reluctantly agreed to stay behind with Regina and Elsa to attempt to find a more permanent solution to Rumpelstiltskin and attempt to speak with Belle about the situation she had found herself in. Killian was again struck with the fierce determination in the woman's demeanor that reminded him so much of Emma. Ignoring the members of court that had gathered, the Queen stood on her toes as her husband bent from his mount to kiss her soundly and assure her that Emma would be home soon.

She waved to her friend and wished Killian well, a moment that did not go unnoticed by Elsa. She touched the Queen's shoulder and guided her back into the protective walls after bidding the foursome good luck and safe travels.

"Do you think it is safe to have him held in the same cage he escaped from before?" Elsa asked the Queen, her hands tugging at each other. "I could use one of your birds to contact my troops in Arrendelle. It would not take much to transport reinforcements here."

"We have learned from our past mistakes. There will be no escaping his prison this time." The Queen breathed in deeply as she watched Johanna patter down the long hallway toward where the children were resting. Her son was down there, a son she had prayed so hard for over the years. But her mind was focusing on the younger boy. Henry was clearly her daughter's son, though she had not considered the idea before. This was something they would have to deal with and consider once Emma was safely home.

"Emma will want to know him, raise him," Elsa said, her voice low and barely audible. It startled Snow that the woman had read her mind. "I don't know that Regina is ready for this."

"My daughter will have to lead us through this maze of a situation," Snow reluctantly admitted. "While he is her son, he has known no other than Regina in that role. Whatever she decides is best for him will be the course we will take."

***AAA***

Across the dark and forbidding forest, Emma was thinking of her son too. He was alive, which seemed remarkable and even unbelievable. For several years she had both mourned and accepted his passing without full knowledge. And now he was there within grasp.

She was not sure what had happened to Rumpelstiltskin or how it had come that he had disappeared into the air. It was not clear if he would come back or not, but she could not sit on her laurels and wait for rescue. Her mother and father had both taught her to stay steadfast with a plan and avoid the possibility of distraction when the world seemed to be conspiring. So with her wits still intact, she had set out to do what she had been tasked to do.

The drops of potion that the Dark One had spoken of would bring her into contact with Baelfire. Though she felt noting but anger and bitterness at the way he had left her, she recognized his rights to be a father. He was ignorant that their son even existed. And while she was unsure of her next steps, she knew that he should at least know.

"Baelfire, I don't know how I'm going to tell you this," she said softly as she looked at the dark and tall castle that Maleficent had called home. Beneath its spires and turrets was a large dungeon that served as the woman's home when she was in dragon form. Corridors and passages served as her refuge and protection from the outside. The Dark One had said she could pass through easily, but killing Maleficent would be required to obtain the egg shaped contraption her father had placed there in exchange for a way to marry his true love. She had learned to fight and defend herself over the years, but murder was beyond her reasoning, even in the eye of a good deed. It would surely darken her heart if she even tried.

"I could use a sign right now," she said to herself as she crossed into the once grand foyer. It was a neglected space that bore char marks that were typical of dragon inhabitants. Not that she had much experience with such things. Brandishing her father's sword at her side and still not sure how the Dark One had obtained it, Emma walked along and listened for any clue as to where Maleficent was hiding. Occasionally a creak or groan would sound, but nothing right for the search.

It would not take long, she told herself. Lay waste to the beast and retrieve the ingredient. What came next was far scarier than any dragon.

***AAA***

Red was in her element, breathing in the scents to tell her the path that they should take. While Graham seemed to have some patience with her, even it was wearing thin as she dismounted from her horse, shushing them all, and then closing her eyes to breathe in deeply three or four times before repeating that part of the process again.

Killian was the least patient of the bunch, grumbling under his breath and threatening to ride off on his own if the woman did not hurry along.

"Your anxiousness is noted," David told him, holding the reins lightly in his leather clad hands. "I would not be doing my fatherly duty if I didn't wonder about your intentions once we rescue her."

Scoffing at the implication of having this conversation again and in such a setting, Killian rested his hook on the horn of the saddle and watched Graham take stock of the broken branches and packed earth. "The Princess knows her own mind, your majesty. I doubt that my interest in her company would be much of an issue if she did not share it."

"Indeed," the King answered. "And your intentions are to…what? Are you hoping to ascend up the throne with her royal blood usurping provenance? Or do you intend to have her sail about with you on that ship and ignore her duty and obligation."

It was not that Killian had not wondered about those very issues. If Emma was truly meant to be his and vice versa, he would love nothing more than to live quietly with her in a cottage that was tucked away from the lives they had both known. He could see them in comfortable and yet humble surroundings with children and love that seemed impossible to fully obtain until he had met her. Those were not the thoughts to share with her father though.

"I intend," Killian said, emphasizing the word that the King so drew out, "to do whatever will make Emma happy. If she wants me in her life, I will be there as she sees appropriate. It is high time that someone made her happiness a priority."

That statement drew the ire of the King who nearly spat his distaste and muttered about pirates having no place in proper society. However, it did end the conversation as the foursome traveled on for a way longer and continued to hope that their journey was not in vain.


	28. Chapter 28

The stairs to the lower reaches of the mines were slick and treacherous, making the beautiful woman hold tightly to a rickety railing that looked as though it might collapse any moment. The dwarf ahead of her sneered and grunted on occasion, only asking once if she wished to proceed.

"I want to see him," she said with a determined set to her jaw. "I need to see him."

Seemingly lost without his pick axe on his shoulder or in his hands, the man shuffled toward the long tunnels that were lit by occasionally placed torches. He was well aware of the lectures and debate that had surrounded this little visit, as the queens had argued for allowing it and the former queen against it. As delicate as she had looked, Belle had stood her ground and stated unequivocally that she was to see the man she loved before they did anything to him.

Grumpy had agreed to accompany her, knowing clearly that there would be other guards there beneath the surface of the earth to ensure everyone's safety. Using squid ink and what were said to be a series of magically impenetrable bars and cages, it was told to those in power that Rumpelstiltskin could not and would not escape. Grumpy was never very optimistic about such things.

"How long do they plan to hold him here?" Belle asked, breaking the silence as the guard at the first gated area eyed them warily. "Forever?"

"Haven't asked," Grumpy retorted. "It's not my business. But if I had my way it would be. Can't kill the guy and can't let him free. What choice is there?"

Belle didn't answer right away, waiting for the gate to be opened before stepping through and gathering her skirts into her hands. They had to step over flowing water that would in some years cut through the rocks there and change the underground landscape from what it was today. The tips of her shoes were already wet and each step was a practice in balance and traction.

"You're not planning anything, are you?" he asked, startling her. "There's no changing that man. You may think…"

"I've lived in his fortress for years, done his bidding, and seen the horrors of what he can do. I assure you that nobody in his kingdom is as aware of that fact than me."

Incredulously, the dwarf grunted and adjusted the cap on his head as they continued forward. He'd had to ask, had to know if she was foolish enough to believe her own feelings were enough to break a curse that had been centuries in the making. But the determined and sad resignation in her beautiful eyes was enough to tell him that she was telling the truth.

It took nearly half an hour to get to the space where a cell stood carved into the walls. A large pit ran in front of it, no flames showing, but smoke and the unmistakable scent of sulfur wafted through the air. Grumpy gave Belle a sort of half bow and waved his arm in front of himself as if to show off the holding cell of her true love as something to be proud of and enjoy.

She took a tentative step toward it. "Not to close," he bellowed. "Updraft is nasty."

She nodded and waited for Rumpelstiltskin to look at her. He finally did, but it wasn't as she had expected. There was no kindness or softness in his eyes.

"I wanted to see you," she said. "I wanted you to know that I…I wasn't involved in this plan to keep you here, but I understand it. I…A child, Rumple? How could you do all this to threaten a child?" There was a trembling in her voice though she held herself up tall and strong.

She wasn't sure what she had expected, but his laughter was not it. It echoed off the stone walls and made even the surliest of the guards flinch at its maniacal quality. His head was thrown back and the long fingers gripped the bars to hold his balance. "It is a shame when I work so hard to achieve something only to be misunderstood. It was never about the child, Henry. He was just a means to an end. I would have sent him back to his mother once I was done."

"Don't believe him," Grumpy hissed. "He's lying."

"The dwarf knows me well," the Dark One said, jumping back from the bars. "Never trust anyone, dearie, least of all the Dark One. Trust is the key. The key to pain and heartbreak. Never a good idea if you want to keep your heart in one piece."

"I want to know why," she said, shaking off the words he had just said to her. "Why were you doing this?"

He spun the tale for her as well as he had once spun straw into gold, pausing for effect and making note of her facial expressions to determine her understanding. He told her of Baelfire and the night that he discovered his son's plans to escape from him and the world of magical things. Something, he explained, had happened. The portal opened too soon and carried his son away before Emma could arrive. All of it had meant that his son was lost to him and Emma believed he had left her intentionally. While he had arranged for Emma's son to be removed to the care of Regina, he had known that he would need the boy someday. And after years of searching and reading, he had found the one way to contact his son.

"He would never speak to me otherwise," the man explained, no emotion showing through the veneer of a mad man. "Henry was the key to breaking through."

"And Emma?"

"She agreed to try," he said without even the hint of being concerned. "She stood a chance and took it."

Belle twisted her hands in front of her. "You told me once that you loved power more than me. I didn't believe it, but maybe…What of your son? Do you love power more than him? There must be something that would pull you back from this brink of madness you've teetered on for God knows how long."

***AAA***

"How long did you serve?" David asked, his hand sweeping along the curve of the horse he had been riding in search of his daughter.

"Pardon?" Killian asked, not sure what to make of the King's attempts at small talk. They had been riding for hours and felt no closer to any form of civilization than when they had left. It was enough to make a man mad, but Killian had tried to stave off the worry that was curdling inside his gut. "Serve?"

"In the Royal Navy," the man clarified. "Leo and Emma both told me several times that you hadn't always been a pirate. They said you had a military background."

"Aye, it was a long time ago. Achieved the rank of lieutenant before my departure." He hoped that the King would not question that any more, as he had long ago started using the word departure rather than retirement that would indicate a mutual split.

"And did you see any combat?" David asked. The King's voice was subdued and indicative of a man checking off a list of questions rather than truly interviewing.

"A bit, but most of my time was spent serving a dishonorable king and doing a bit of his leg work when he could not send soldiers in to do it." He hoped the bitterness in his voice was masked enough that the King did not hear it. "What about you? Have you ever sent men to their deaths in the name of expanding your kingdom or protecting your borders?"

With a nod, David bent to brush a bit of the earth off his high leather boots. Gone was the pretense and pompousness of royalty. There were no servants with them nor anyone serving tea and sandwiches to the rescuers. If the King noticed this, he said nothing of it though Killian surely did pay attention. It finally ate at him enough that he decided to mention the change.

"I'm sure that Emma has confided in you that I had humble beginnings." The sardonic tone to his laugh reminded the pirate of Emma and her way of brushing off anything that might be uncomfortable with the lilting titter and shy smile that hid so much. "I'm more than capable of being self-sufficient."

"That is admirable for a man with such a title. I'm afraid many royals depend upon others catering to them rather than their own devices. So I will admit that you have surprised me with that, your highness."

It was Red who interrupted them, noting that the trail to finding Emma was weak and that the forest seemed to envelop them in a shroud rather than reveal its secrets. In her own words it was one of the hardest trails that she had ever scouted, leaving her a bit perplexed and frustrated. "Perhaps we should have brought Snow. She's an excellent tracker. Or she was. I'm sure that tracking and spotting aren't exactly on the daily schedule for a queen these days."

"I think she would have preferred to have come, but I felt she is better equipped to deal with Regina's issues of being bound from magic again." David looked skyward, seeing none of the markings or stars that he would normally. "And this isn't a normal case of tracking either."

It was Graham who suggested making camp for the night but the King and the pirate were not of the same opinion. Red whispered to the huntsman companion that this trek was certainly making strange bed fellows.

"I don't believe he trusts me," Killian told the woman when David refused his suggestion of a certain path.

"I imagine not," the woman said as she took in another deep breath of air. "He's used to consorting with noble people either by birth or my countenance. You're not exactly what he would pick for…"

"A companion for his daughter?" Graham suggested under his breath. He'd known the royal couple since before they even met. Having watched Emma grow into the woman she was today, he too wondered about her choice in associating with a man known for murdering and stealing from the ships and port towns of the realm. While he had earned the trust of both royals, he would have never overstepped his bounds to question any of their judgment. "Sorry."

"No need," Killian said. "I am afraid that there is little I can do to convince him of my worth in that regard. I'm not sure I fully believe it myself." Despite his lack of a hand, he swung himself up onto the horse that was regarded as his for the trip. "However, I don't intend to rely upon the opinions of anyone other than Emma in that regard."

Red's hand smoothed down the head of Killian's horse and she smiled up to him. "My goddaughter is not a woman who will allow others to make that decision for her. So I feel you are in good stead there. No, I simply meant that David and Snow are two of the most honorable and gallant people you will meet. They don't typically associate with the enemy. It shows the desperation of the situation that they are willing to at this point."

"I assure you, Lady Red, I am not the enemy here. I wish to see Emma in the arms of her loved ones just as much as the King. And I will do what I must to ensure that happens."

***AAA***

Snow let the door close behind her with a delicate but resounding thud. Hours of being without her husband and daughter had left the woman in a state that she preferred not to name, as panic and distress seemed to breed more of the same once labeled as such. She had told herself that she would do anything to find her daughter, but David had been right that they could not both go on this adventure. For one there was their son who needed tending to and looking after.

He was asleep, having spent the afternoon and most of the evening playing rather than studying. Perhaps she had not had the heart to tell him to stop. Either way, she was sure that he knew something had happened. The whole palace seemed to be holding its breath for whatever it might be that was going to happen. Each sound of footsteps or horses drew fears of the message to be delivered. He could probably sense that.

She had checked on him earlier, ruffled his hair, and kissed his brow with motherly affection. Across from him on a makeshift bed was Henry. Her heart sank as she stared the boy, unbelieving that she had not seen her daughter in his small features. The boy was her grandson, a perfect combination that she should know better than she did. Emma and Leo had not had the benefit of grandparents. And thus far the young boy had been denied such as well.

She wanted to scoop him up and protect him, get to know him, and love him as the son of her only daughter. But she couldn't do that yet. There would be time, she told herself. There would be time later when the Dark One was dealt with and their enemies quieted again. Then she would hold the boy close and count the features that she had missed before.

"He likes goat's milk," Johanna said with a tentative smile on her lips. "Prefers it actually. He's got a sweet tooth, but that's true of most wee ones like him. He loves to be read to and wants so much to be grown and useful."

Snow blinked, a hand coming up to her mouth. "I should know those things, shouldn't I?"

"You will," the woman said. "He's bright. Very bright."

"Like Emma?"

"Much like her. She was more stubborn, but he's quite determined himself. I'm sure that…I'm sure that he'll be fine once this mess is sorted out."

The Queen closed her eyes, imagining her daughter as a little girl again, cradling a doll in one hand as she waved the wooden sword like her father in the other. "I'm sure he will be too."

Swallowing the air that seemed so imposing, she almost choked at the stout governess smoothed her apron and cocked her head to the side. "Might I ask a question, milady. I don't mean to be rude or impertinent, but it is of some concern."

"Very well," Snow said, folding her trembling hands over themselves. "What is it?"

"Lady Regina was asking after something that belonged to the Princess. The staff was talking and assumed it to be for a locator spell. Yet the King and the others set out in search of her without such a spell to guide them. Is there a reason for it?"

***AAA***

Emma's hand shook as she sheathed the sword back in place and then pushed her loose hair back off her sweat and soot stained face. There was no mistaking the scent of burning flesh and singed fabric that assaulted her nose and made her feel as though even her insides were burning in the fire that the dragon had breathed out in long hot spurts.

"Now what?" she questioned herself, feeling the bile rise in her throat again. She'd already felt ill so many times since arriving at the fortress, questioning both her health and her sanity. Below her in the bowels of the once beautiful palace laid a wounded but still breathing dragon, its torso shredded by her sword. A twinge of guilt was bubbling inside her, the idea of bloodshed at her own devices something she had sworn she would never do without it being provoked.

Funny, she thought, sinking down to the dusty and damp floor with her head drooping. Her first thought was not of Baelfire or Henry, but of Killian. His words that he had shared, regret of violent acts in his past, seemed to echo inside and around her. The lilting cadence of his voice sweeping along and embracing those same emotions. She knew she was strong enough to overcome this obstacle, though she couldn't quite name it yet.

"I want to go home," she said, breathing in one last sickening gulp of incendiary air. "I want to be done with this."

Gathering herself and hiding what appeared to her to be an embellished golden egg, she climbed out of the maze of rooms and hurried as best she could into the darkest forest she had ever seen. The branches loomed in every direction around her, the path behind her disappearing into a nothingness that was as encompassing as any prison.

***AAA***

"We could just leave," Regina said with a bite to her words as she paced before the dwindling fire in the suite that she shared with her husband. "Roland and Henry would be fine with it. We could take the carriage and…"

Robin scratched at the heavy stubble along the line of his jaw and sighed. She was not answering his question, nor was she offering anything but escape plans. It wasn't that he had not thought of them. Henry was as close to his own son as he could be, but it wasn't simple. If the boy did belong to Emma, then arrangements and decisions were necessary.

"You didn't know?" he asked, feeling guilty for doubting her and incredulous that she might have been a victim as well. "No inkling?"

"I am a victim in all this, same as all of us," Regina said. "I can't believe that you of all people don't trust that. I didn't steal Henry. I wanted a child of my own and Rumpelstiltskin provided that for me. I love Henry. I wouldn't do anything that would…"

"You made a deal with the Dark One and expected that it would be as it appeared? That's a bit naïve." Robin could see the fiery disposition in her eyes as she flashed him a look and whipped her head back to the window. "It's not an insult, darling. I'm just trying to understand. The Dark One. The bloody Dark One gives you a child to care for as your own and you don't question the child's lineage?"

"I was gold that the child was abandoned," Regina practically screeched. "Why are you doubting me on this? It his fault, not mine. And what of Emma and Baelfire? Are they blameless in this? How could she not know what became of her child?" Dripping with anger, her words practically echoed off the walls of the room. "Anyone in my situation would have believed this to be a gift not a curse."

Robin nodded, remembering his own moments of fear when he had come close to losing Roland. He would have done most anything to believe that he could protect his child. Believing the impossible when it came to a child was what parents did. He had seen that Regina loved Henry, thought of him as her own flesh and blood. "I'm sorry, darling. I'm just trying to wrap my head around this matter. It won't go away. Emma will return and when she does…I'm afraid she has claim to Henry, more than you do."

"That's why we must take him and Roland and leave this place. We should have never come here. We should have handled this on our own. Snow and that husband of hers forever botch things that should be simple. We could be gone before light."

"Regina, you can't mean that," he said, well aware that she did. Regina was in a self preservation mode at that point, not one of fairness or concern for anyone else. "Emma can't lose her son again."

"Emma has lived these years with the knowledge that her son was lost to her. She chose to believe that. She chose to close that chapter of her life. How do we even know that she wants…"

The words hung in the air. They both knew.

***AAA***

It was Red that first noticed a sign of something different, sniffing out the scent of smoke and ash despite seeing none of it. Graham left his horse behind as he ran after her, leaving the bewildered King and pirate in his wake. Those two soon joined the others and they ran in what seemed to be circles for more than an hour until it was David who spotted a bit of the material from Emma's ball gown. It was torn smartly and had been dampened with water from a stagnant creek.

"No blood on it," Killian said, expelling a breath he had not realized he was holding. "Maybe she's…"

"She must be close," Red confirmed, tilting her head back and letting the chestnut curls drape down her back. "The cloth is still wet and there are fresh tracks."

Graham grabbed ahold of the woman's forearm, his own breathing a bit labored and heavy. "Wait. Let's look at what direction before we just dart off again."

Looking annoyed at being questioned for her abilities, Red fisted her hands at her narrow hips and glared. "Her prints are leading just over that rise over there. Come if you wish, but I intend to find my goddaughter."

David was fast on her heels, calling out Emma's name along with Killian who took the third spot. A moment later the huntsman was following suit. It took another few minutes before they saw her, tired and dirty but already drawing her sword for the fight if necessary. Red, always more pragmatic, immediately scanned her for signs of injury or wounds as David began to ask her on what had happened and where she had gotten to in all this. She was not looking at either of them though, as she launched herself into Killian's arms and ignored the fact that her father would probably not be happy at the display. Later she would hug him and tell him that she was glad to be going home, but in that moment she needed Killian to remind her that she was not at the end of her rope.

"You are not hurt?" he asked into her hair, his ringed fingers wrapping around the hair that curled at the nape of her neck. "Love, I need to know that you are alright."

The way he said it made her feel that he physically and literally did need to know she was well before he could even draw another breath. She nodded against his shoulder, refusing to back up in order to look into his eyes and confirm her state at that moment. He took that as confirmation though and began whispering thanks to the gods above for her.

"You came looking for me," she stated between his grateful praise. "In this awful forest."

"I came to rescue you," he said, a bit of the sarcasm and mirth making an appearance in his tone. "But it seems you did not need it. You would have found your way back without the searching party."

"It is nice to be thought of though," she commented. Finally pulling away, she wiped at her soot stained face and tilted her head to her father. "I got the vial that the Dark One wanted. I wasn't sure…I wasn't so sure it was the right thing to do, but I thought it better to have it than leave it with that dragon."

Her father nodded mutely, his relief in finding her leaving him weak as he braced himself on his own sword. There was a tentative smile about his lips before his hand covered his eyes and half his face. "Let's get you home."

"That sounds like a fine idea, sire," Graham said, waving an arm back toward the trail they had taken to get to her. "I believe I have marked the way back to the horses. However, if the lady would care to lead I will be happy enough to follow."

Red brushed past him to place herself nearer to Emma, shouldering Killian out of the way as she drew the Princess into a hug. She cupped the blonde's face in her hands and stared hard before releasing her. "We've got a long walk back. Can you make it?"

"Of course. I made it this far. But aren't we in the…"

"We'll find our way to your palace, Emma," Killian said, kneeling to retrieve the sword she had drawn and dropped. He refastened it to her side, letting his hand linger at the handle for a moment longer than necessary. "You've got your son to get home to, love."

"I…I never thought that…I thought he was dead." Her voice shattered into pieces and fell around her like destruction after a storm. "I never imagined that I would be seeing him. And now he calls another woman mama. I don't know that I can take that from him. I don't know how to do this."

Killian lifted her arm with his hook and looped it through his own arm to guide her as they walked. "I do wish I had the wisdom of knowing what the right course for such a situation would be, love. I don't. I fear no one truly does. But your boy is alive. And no matter his upbringing in these few years, he has the right to a mother who loves him and wants to know him. Hold to that."

She ducked her head under one of the thick branches he lifted with his hook, her head brushing his shoulder. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him what this all meant. He had shown her affection and indicated that he did feel more for her than unlikely friendship and comradery. While he had spoken of not dwelling on their pasts, she wondered what that meant now that her past had caught up with her future. He was a pirate who had set his sights on a princess. Would he want a broken one with darkness inside her and a son by another man?


	29. Chapter 29

_**Two more (I think) chapters to go on this. Don't quote me on that. I wanted to give CS a little time to reconnect in this, as well as a little time for Daddy Charming feels.**_

Emma could feel her father's footfalls behind her, his breath catching when he found her there by the narrow creek. She was crouched at the water, cupping her hand so that she might wash away some of the soot and ash from her skin. While Killian had said nothing of her bedraggled appearance, she could feel the sadness in his gaze as he took inventory of the singed fabric and tears.

"I'm alone," he said, kneeling next to her and removing his belt sash so that he might tear it. He dropped the shorter cloth into the water and wet it before holding it before her to ask permission. When she nodded, he ran it softly over her face to scrub away some of the fight. "It's not easy to sleep after such things."

She shook her head, twisting it in the direction he guided with his fingers under her chin to inspect his work. "I didn't kill her," she said with solemn and resigned sigh. "I wanted to, but I did get the potion that you…"

"It was the only way Rumpelstiltskin would allow me to get to your mother. She was under a sleeping curse and I had…I had only a little time."

"You would do anything for her," Emma said softly. "I have known that since I was a small child. You could see it."

Her father turned back to the water to dip the cloth back into the water. "I would do better with soap, but you will pass." He peeked over his shoulder to wear Killian was attempting to sleep on a bedroll that was no more than a thin blanket on the ground. "I suppose he will approve."

She flushed, thankful for the moon's dim glow through the imposing trees. "Will he?"

As a child she had believed that her father could read her mind, as he often circumvented her confessions and admissions by telling her what he already knew. It had been years since she had last felt that connection with him. Yet for an instant, it sparked back between them and she felt his hand touch her shoulder gently. "I have never known you to doubt what is true, Emma," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I may not appreciate his actions on the high seas or his disregard for the laws of this land, but I do not doubt that he intends only the best that he can offer for you. You helped me to see that, as did he these last few days. You do not doubt that now, do you?"

That worm of doubt ate at her confidence. "Henry's my son," she said the words aloud, confusing her father from his topic for a brief moment. "I am not the virginal princess nor the redeemed one that everyone has seen me to be. There is evidence now of my indiscretion that could destroy this kingdom if our enemies preyed upon us. I am not the same."

He plucked a twig from her hair thoughtfully and twisted it in between his fingers and thumb. "I fail to see the change you speak of. Emma, your son is alive, which is reason to celebrate and be joyous that you were not robbed of him for longer than you were. He has been raised by a woman who desired a son and brought up to be a caring young boy. If anyone would dare to judge the daughter of Snow White and myself, I fear for their safety. For I would challenge anyone who impugns your fitness for the crown over the existence of a remarkable young boy." He dropped the twig to the ground. "And I might say that the pirate has shown no despair over your role as Henry's mother. He has instead strengthened his resolve, I believe, wanting to reunite you with the boy as well as himself."

Her dark lashes drooped onto her cheeks. "I don't know how to do this," she said in a wavering voice. "How can I be something to everyone who will require it? Maybe Henry is better off…"

"That will be your decision, my Emma. I cannot make it for you. But I will be here, as will your mother and I suspect Killian as well."

"You called him Killian," she said, her eyes lifting again and brightening at the realization. "You didn't say pirate."

Father embraced daughter there by the water. He held her to him and said he would help her decide about the potion and the quandary over contacting Baelfire. There seated on the damp earth, they considered their options when it came to the Dark One and by morning were feeling tired yet more prepared to meet the day.

***AAA***

"I feel as though we should do something," Elsa said, coming round the table to greet the other queen. "They are in that forest with no real means of escape unless Red's senses are more powerful than any wolf that I know."

"What do you suggest?" the Queen said warily. "I am afraid I am lacking in inspiration."

Elsa trusted her assessment of the situation and drew her skirts into her hand as she took a seat upon one of the side chairs. "I was remembering a conversation with Regina that we had over Emma's lessons. The former queen spoke of a locator spell, something that can sprinkled upon the belongings of a missing person and help guide us back to him or her. I know that she was looking for the ingredients when the dagger was obtained. But she left it alone after that."

Snow's smile to her counterpart from the other kingdom dimmed. "Regina has taken to seclusion, the threat of losing both her magic again and her…Henry are taking their toll. I'm afraid she would be of little help in the matter."

"If I could find the spell I could make it. I'm sure that I could, but I ask your permission to view some of the texts that Regina had shared with Emma. I know that there may be things that are possessed solely by this kingdom. I would not wish to steal them for my own. I am simply trying to help Emma come home to those who love her."

Snow could remember those texts from her childhood, the books having belonged first to Cora and transcribed in some cases from the teachings of Rumpelstiltskin himself. It was thought that they had been destroyed during the long years of war between the two women only to find that she had saved the dusty tomes that were useless to her without the spark of magic. There were quite powerful incantations and recipes within them that could destroy as well as heal. However, Elsa was not just any ruler. She was a dear friend of Emma's and the daughter of the late royal couple who had been allies and confidants of both the King and Queen.

"I will allow it," Snow conceded with her gentle nod. "Should the opportunity arise, I will speak to Regina of this, but I fear she won't recover soon. Perhaps you should include the young woman Belle? I know that she has been fraught with frustration over feeling useless right now. She has an affinity for books and may be good at research."

Elsa worried her bottom lip between her teeth as she smoothed her hands over the velvety purple gown she wore. "I do not wish to speak out of fear or paranoia, but I fear that we might should keep this plan between us both. The young woman does seem capable and kind, but she had been loyal to the Dark One. It is possible that she could turn back…"

"I suppose it isn't in our best interests to pose the temptation of her learning of some magic that might help. Very well. If you require it, I can assist later today after Granny has attempted her own recognizance. She is out with a few of the guard now, sniffing out trouble as she would say. I can join you in the library at the noon hour."

"I appreciate it, Your Majesty." The woman's head nod was one of respect, though not as deep as formal curtsy from a subject would have been.

***AAA***

"I don't understand this," Red seethed, her cape still about her shoulders and lines of frustration evident on her face. "We were marking the path as we went. How are we so lost that we might have passed the same spot four times now? Even a novice tracker would not make such a mistake."

"It is not the tracker but these woods," Graham explained as he ran his hand over the bark of the tree for any sign that it had been marked for their return. The bark on the trees in this forest were as thick and dark as the limbs and foliage that blocked out most of sun's natural light. It seemed that the trees had essentially healed themselves from the incisions that were the easiest and most effective markings.

"The huntsman is right," David agreed. "Without a magical guide there is no way to know which direction we should head."

"I could try my magic again," Emma said, holding her palms up and bracing herself for that first blast that always seemed to challenge her balance. Light shot from her hands, but there was no immediate change to their location or condition. "I…"

"Princess Emma, it is unlikely that your magic is going to be able to help us here. These woods are impenetrable and your magic unless directed quite precisely will only serve to give us false bearing. It is one of the consequences of this place." He cleared his throat. "While it is not advised that we split up, I think that perhaps some of us should journey farther into this labyrinth and the others stay within ear shot to guide us back if anything goes wrong."

"That might be the safest course," David agreed, "but we should see to having a bit to eat. It has been a while and we shouldn't neglect that."

Graham and David elected to search out some form of nourishment as Red tried to map out what her own senses were telling her. That left Killian and Emma to guide the horses over to the water for a drink.

"Emma, are you truly well?" he asked, dropping the reigns and reaching for her instead. "I have not stopped worrying that the Crocodile might have done something to harm you."

"I'm well, Killian. I just…I want to be home." She leaned into the touch of his hand on the said of her face, closing her eyes to it. "Thank you for coming to find me."

"I would say that you are the last woman who needs rescuing, as you seem to have perfected that on your own, love. But you cannot blame a man for seeking to be at your side." He brushed his lips against the corner of her mouth, taking a bit of pride in her comforting sigh and tighter hold on his coat lapels. "I love you, Emma."

Her eyes fluttered back open as she stared at him with a mixture of surprise and wonder. "You do?" she asked.

It was not quite the response he was expecting, but he appreciated the adorably honest reaction. "Of course, my love. I have for some time, though I have set about my days to temper it into friendship and then mild affection. The truth is that I am in love with you. I promised myself that when you had succeeded in your tasks that I would no longer allow the words to stay trapped between my heart and my mouth."

"I…"

"You don't have to say the words, Emma," he consoled after she stuttered for a moment. "I'm not attempting to make you feel as you don't just to satisfy my ego. I will still love you and admire you even if you are never to feel the same for me."

"I…I do love you, Killian." She ducked her head in a disbelieving and embarrassed gesture. "I hoped that you felt that for me, Killian. I dreamed that you did. I've been falling in love with you for a long time too."

The shout of joy that he wanted to convey might have been inappropriate given the proximity they were to the others, so he settled for kissing her. He wasn't sure, but maybe the kiss was the best way to convey the still unspoken words between them. For he wasn't sure three words could adequately speak to his devotion and desire for her. His palm curved and his fingers dissolved into the mass of curls that were still beautifully messy down her back. Her breasts were pressed against his torso, their firm pressure giving him material for future fantasies of her. With a sweep of his tongue inside her mouth, he felt her shudder against him before her own tongue joined the dance.

There was a sense of pride as they parted, her head dropping to his shoulder as if she were exhausted. She must have been, he assumed thinking of the trials of her latest days. Had they been back on his ship he might have swept her up in his arms and carried her to his quarters without mind to her objections that she could certainly walk under her own power. "We should head back soon. I don't want to lose what ground I have gained with your father because I could not control my desire to ravish his daughter." He heard what sounded like a giggle at his assessment. "It will make it easier to continue my conversations with him about my intentions if I am not in fear of being hanged for my treatment of you."

"I thought we were going to talk to him together," she reminded him, rubbing her cheek against his skin where his shirt was open. "I'm rather curious about your intentions toward me as well."

His chuckle rumbled in his chest as he pulled her even tighter against him. "I might have every intention of being by your side no matter where life is taking you. I know that things are quite unpredictable for you what with the current state of our whereabouts and the discovery of your son, but I assure you that I will be there with you. If you wish for me to never sail again, I will do that. If you ask that I take you and Henry away from all the madness of this kingdom, consider your trunks packed. It is all up to you, my love."

Her breath caught in her chest as she fisted her hands on the leather of his coat. "You would do that? Take us away if I asked?"

"I would do anything for you, my love."

***AAA***

Roland sat on his father's lap as Regina stoically stood next to the fireplace. His head and eyes were drooping in connection with his altered naptime and his father rubbing slow circles on his back. "She wants to get to know him," Regina spat with a fury before returning to her emotionless pace. "Snow wants to know Henry."

Drawing his son in closer to him, Robin nodded. "I imagine that she does."

"He's my son."

"Yes, he is, but it appears that he has another mother as well, in addition to grandparents. I dare say the boy is about to be inundated with more family than he could ever hope for in his life. It may not seem that way, but he's a lucky lad to have the opportunity for such love."

Regina blinked furiously, her hands balling into fists that could have threatened destruction if she had her magic. "But he's my son."

Lifting the sleeping boy into his arms, and carrying him over to the bed, Robin nodded thoughtfully. "I know this circumstance is not ideal. And I fear there will be no happy outcome if we continue along this path. You have but one chance to do this the right way. No one will doubt that this is painful for you, darling, but think of how it is for Emma and her family. They believed the child she bore to be dead. To find out that…"

"I know that," she seethed. "I only want to ensure that my son is safe and out of the fray when it comes to this mess."

Robin looked back at his son and imagined if someone said he must share the boy. It would not be easy. He could admit that it would be the hardest damn thing in his life to do. Part of him would want to bundle him in his arms to never let go, hiding from the society that threatened their family. But there were other circumstances here. Emma was an innocent party to the deception. His code and his honor would not allow the Princess to suffer to feed the desire and need of his wife.

"The Regina who I feel in love with has a strong soul, a beautiful and brilliant woman who is afraid of nothing. I should have seen that when you were willing to come here that it was fear over losing your son that drove you. You have selflessly placed yourself at the mercy of people you battled to ensure Henry's safety from the Dark One. And it is unfair that your decision led to you possibly losing your son to those very people." She let loose a sob that beguiled her usually regal stance and he approached with the intention of soothing her. He wrapped her in his arms, nearly forcing her to succumb to the tears that had begun to fall. "Unfair as it is, it is not something we have a way to fix without pain and sorrow. It is not a game or a sport or a match. There are points or rules of engagement. We must follow what is right for you, for him, and for Princess Emma."

"What if she refuses to let me ever see him again?" Regina said into his shoulder. "They already look at me as if I am a trespasser when I go to the nursery to check on him."

"She appears to be quite adept at making decisions without the staff and advisors. I don't fear for one moment that she will enter this selfishly."

Just as he had soothed his hands along his son's back, he did the same for Regina, the velvety fabric smooth on his fingers. "She sees the good in people. I don't know her well, but I have seen that with the pirate and even with you. She believed you to be good and on the side of right. She will continue to believe that."

***AAA***

"So we are no closer to finding a way out?" Emma asked Red, her cloak wrapped tight around her to ward off the chill that seemed to exist in the maze of trees and underbrush. They had built a small fire, taking heed that too large of one would threaten their safety should it burn out of control. Her father and Graham provided the team with some of the fresh berries they had found and game that they had roasted over the fire as Killian scrounged up a few herbs that grew in the wild there. It was no feast, but their stomachs were full and minds troubled as they sat and discussed options.

David had told of his first trip through the forest, explaining that it changed on a whim to suit its needs of trapping those who dare to enter. "I used your grandmother's ring, the one your mother now wears. It was to lead me to true love and it did."

Sitting as close to Killian as she could without raising the ire of her father, Emma nestles more into herself. "If everyone who comes here is trapped, then how have we not seen anyone?"

"Many do not make it," her father answered honestly. "And others still wander and live off the land. There are some out there." He waved his arm in the direction of their perimeter. "I would advise looking for anyone. And I believe we are wasting our time and energy trying to walk out."

"That's comforting, mate," Killian said, breaking that wall of respect between pirate and royalty. He was not admonished, which was a victory in itself. "What is your solution then? Fly?"

Graham let loose a good guffaw over the suggestion, breaking the silence that fell amongst them. "If I know the Queen she will do everything in her power to summon us back, but I don't care to wait for it to happen. That's why his majesty and I thought about it and realized that taking to the trees might be the right answer."

Not quite as sharp and cutting with her words, Emma's brow furrowed and she threw the stick she had been twirling in her fingers into the fire to watch it spark. "You mean for us to swing from branches? I don't understand."

Graham again laughed at the mental image as her father began to explain. "We will take turns climbing to get a better lay of the land. The others will walk forward or whatever direction that person deems necessary. I'm quite surprised that Killian here didn't think of it himself, having been on ships with crow's nests and the like."

"I have always been more akin to the stars and sextant. Much more accurate."

"Do you see any stars out here?" Graham asked, abruptly launching himself off the ground and throwing his arms heavenward. "We have no way to know where we are or what direction we are headed except a wolf's nose, a pirate's sarcasm and wit, a Princess's limited knowledge of magic, and a king who traveled this way once before."

Red smoothed the hood of her cloak, frowning into the fire's glow. "And you expect us to just climb these trees? They are treacherous at best. To do it multiple times could be suicide."

"It will no doubt be slow going," David informed them, his typical voice of reason shining amongst the turmoil of too many leaders in one group. "We were lucky when we found Emma, but we cannot rely on that again. We will fasten our own harnesses out of the horse's bridles and whatnot. That will allow for a bit more safety."

"And who will do this climbing?" Killian asked. The leaves and twigs are crunching under Graham's boots and Red shuddered a bit at the sound of a faraway howl.

"Graham and I will take on this task. We need Red to be here on the ground and you and Emma to help guide the way. As I said, it will be hard going. Our best hope lies that we make it as close to the kingdom as we can so that Snow's job is easier." His gaze on his daughter was gentle. "And before you blame yourself, daughter, know that we anticipated that it would be this way."

She almost called them all fools for this rescue attempt. "We should sleep and start fresh in the morning."

While no one agreed with her outright, the group began readying their makeshift camp for rest. The King bedded down near a small rise with his sword on the burlap beside him. His face creased from worry was softened in the light of the fire and his fitful sleep. Graham and Red both offered to keep watch, neither knowing what the night would bring. Finally they decided that Red would go first, as Graham would be exerting enough energy with the tree climbing.

Killian prepared Emma's bed, shaking away her protests by saying that he had often imagined performing a night time ritual for her so he might as well do it now. There is not much to it, but he did the best he could and even told her that she might use his long coat for warmth. She refused.

"I have my cloak for that and my arm for a pillow," she told him. "I doubt that it will be that uncomfortable."

He made his own bed just next to hers, laughing that if her mother was there it would be complete with a bundling board to separate them. "Mustn't let anyone think we are up to something." She tried not to watch him, especially as he removed the coat and his fitted pants revealed the tone of his body that she had seen only glimpses of before. Instead she watched the glow of the dying fire and made pictures in her mind among the smoky lifts. When he had finished she expected him to recline onto the earth like her and drift off to sleep, having told her he found no trouble doing that anywhere. He didn't. Instead he leaned over her and readjusted her cloak so that it fully covered her, giving off the impression of a parent tucking a child into bed.

"Thank you," she whispered up to him, searching in the darkness for the familiar light of his eyes. She could detect his smile and softening edges of his features.

He finally took his place on the thin barrier between himself and the ground, not groaning about it as the others had. Turning to his left side he was facing her, the distance between them respectable enough should her father awaken and wonder. If he was asked, he was good with it, seeing her there so close and hearing her breathing as her lashes fluttered against her cheeks and the braid of her hair roped over her shoulder so that she might not have as many tangles in the morning.

Reaching a hand out from under the makeshift blanket, she reached for his and pressed their palms together. Fingers interlaced, she stared at the combined sight and sighed. "Good night, Killian."

"Sweet slumber, my love."


	30. Chapter 30

**_This chapter turned a little long so I had to split it in half. However, I didn't think you would mind. Thank you again for all your support on this and my other fics._**

"This is a horrible idea," Robin said, offering his arm to his wife to help her down the steep and slippery stairs. "The whole reason we are here was to avoid him. And now you want to see him."

Regina ignored his offer and rubbed at the leathery straps around her wrist. For such a brief time she had been free of the bonds that controlled her magic, but Rumpelstiltskin had replaced them with ones much stronger. All of Elsa's attempts, as well as a few by the Blue Fairy had ended in near explosions. However, she knew that her regaining magic was not the priority of any of the people searching or worrying over Princess Emma.

"He may be under control with the bars and squid ink, but he's still the most knowledgeable man in any realm when it comes to magic," she told her husband firmly. "If there is a way for both Emma and I to have Henry, he will know how to make it so."

Robin breathed in, looking skeptically at the woman. "And you trust him? After all that he has done?"

"If he can fix this, then I am willing to try." She didn't pause at all, continuing forward. "You don't have to do this."

The guards standing at the entrance to the cavern looked at her with fearful yet determined expressions, holding their swords firmly. Robin cast his apologetic glances their way and walked at her side. It was clear he was going to remain there.

When they came upon the clearing, separated from him by the bars and a molten river that seemed by all accounts impassable, Regina said his name only once. She wasn't summoning him, instead just drawing his attention from the meditative state of his being. He looked to her with wild eyes that beguiled humanity. "You're worried," he said, as if reading tarot cards with all the mysteries unfurling. "You're worried that you're about to lose to Snow White yet again. Every bit of your happiness could disappear simply because you wanted to renege on your deal with me."

"I want my son to remain with me," she said, making herself abundantly clear. "You can tell me how to make that happen."

The impish man took a jump back in mock surprise of her demand. "I'm afraid that is impossible, dearie. Even if I wanted to do so, I could not. It's impossible. The die has been cast."

"You could if you wanted to. You have the ability…"

"I don't," he said with a shrug. "When I set into place the events that would give me my grandson, it was with the finest and most tenuous of threads. All it took was one of those threads snapping – Emma learning of her son's true fate – and the future is already in motion. I suggest that you covet your memories, dearie. They are all that you have left."

"I'm not someone who gives up," Regina bellowed, her voice echoing off the stone walls. "I won't. I simply want a new deal. We made one before. We can make one now."

"Regina, no," Robin said, his skin blanching at the sight of his wife trying to negotiate with a monster. "You don't want to do this."

"I do," she insisted. "Let's talk about a new deal." She stood just at the edge of the crevice between the guards and the cell. The heat and sulphur smell wafting upwards toward her. "Now."

Rumpelstiltskin giggled gleefully. "Unfortunately for you, that would require something you don't have."

"And what is that?"

"An interested party with which to make a deal. I have no interest now. If Emma succeeds in bringing back the ingredient I need, then we may be able to talk. But she is currently in the midst of an unending labyrinth where she may never return. Before you get your hopes up though, I would think long and hard. Do you truly think that your nemesis will give up her grandson to you?"

"I'll give you anything," Regina said, sounding more desperate than she had in a long time.

"Regina…" Robin's pleas fell on deaf ears.

"You no longer have anything that I want, dearie."

***AAA***

Henry bounded over the rise and down again, weaving and ducking as though some imaginary beast was chasing him with a bloodlust that might never be quenched. It was an amusing sight to Snow, who watched from the veranda, Granny at her side.

"Emma would do that," she mused, eyes welling up at the way the light seemed to catch on the highlights of his brown hair. "She had quite an imagination."

Rubbing her arm absently, Granny clicked her tongue approvingly. "It's growing on you, isn't it?" she asked. "This thought of being a grandmother."

"It's more than a thought," Snow asserted. "He's…he's my grandson."

"And step-brother, it would seem," Granny reminded her, turning her aging face toward the large windows of the second floor. "I don't trust her."

"It's hard to know what will happen with all this, but I am grateful she acquiesced and gave us this moment. It can't be easy for her, knowing that he could be leaving her soon." She twisted her ring on her hand and breathed deeply. "I can't begin to fathom how we will work this out."

Granny nodded, her fingers digging deeper into her arm. "That's all well and good, but it is not up to you, Snow. As much as you may want to protect Emma and this boy from the pain of separation, it is Emma who must assert herself."

"Easier said than done," she sighed. Looking toward the grounds again, she smiled at Henry's exuberance when one of the stable hands brought with him a new colt. He shooed the three boys away from it, but let them witness the small horse's strong gait and let them take turns feeding the animal carrots from the storehouse. "Have we heard from any of the advisors? I know that Elsa is working on that spell, but there must be something we can do."

Granny lowered her eyes. "We knew that they were risking themselves by going into those woods. I shouldn't think a solution would be easy."

It was clear that the Queen was at the end of her rope, her normally pale skin almost sickly and her eyes rimmed darkly. "It's not impossible. It can't be impossible."

***AAA***

The glowing eyes of the dragon penetrated through her, making her very skin burn from within as the steam and smoke began to seep through its scale laced pores. She felt ill as she stood primed with the heavy sword, ignoring the waves of nausea that seemed to hit her. There was a spot, her father had told her in his stories, a spot where one could see the pit of fire boiling inside a dragon, the heart of the beast. She had thought, from his vivid descriptions that it would be hard to find, more obscure that the glowing wall of flesh and scales. However, as she stood there with her eyes trained on it, the glowing grew and became an obvious target. Knowing she could not reach such a tall goal, she heaved the sword through the air and directly into it.

"Emma?" Killian's voice sounded within the cavern, but that made no sense. "Emma, love, are you alright? You're shaking."

She lifted her eyes to see him hovering over her, the concern of a man not understanding what she had seen hovering over her. "It was just a dream."

"A frightening one by the way you reacted." The camp they had made was quiet, except for the occasional snore of Graham and Red's crunching footfalls on the ground as she paced at a distance. "Do you wish to talk about it?"

She blinked, only able to see his silhouette in the darkness. "I'm well."

"Of course you are, love," he said, propping himself up on his left elbow. "I would hold you if you might rest easier that way, but I fear your father's reaction might not bode well for my health should he wake before us. May I hold your hand instead, Emma?"

She smiled into the nothingness and extended a trembling hand, folding her other arm under her again as a pillow. "You are not so fearsome when you are being so kind and considerate."

His chuckle was more of a rumble as he squeezed his palm against hers. "Then I will be sure not to offer my hand to any of my enemies."

They lay there like that for a good while, the pressure of his hand caressing and squeezing hers becoming softer. She wondered if he was asleep when she loosened her grip on his, but his quick reflexes kept the cold metal of his rings running over the soft skin of her hand. "Where is your favorite place?"

"Other than at your side?" he asked, almost teasing with the flirtatiousness of it.

"In your travels," she said softly. "You have seen so many places that I have not. Where is your favorite?"

It was as if the sun came out and shined for a single moment as she saw his features soften with the memory of some untold adventure. Licking his dry lips, he began his tale of some far off island where the sun shone brightly and a soft breeze carried with it the scent of the ocean, coconuts, and flowers that she had never laid eyes on before. He promised that someday to take her there, let her place bare feet in the lapping water and lay a wreath of flowers on her golden hair.

"I'd like to do that," she said, squeezing his hand. "We would have to take Henry too."

"Aye, the lad would surely have a good time playing about in the surf." He continued to tell her of the place and the people they would see, speaking of it in terms of a vacation or holiday that would include her son. She smiled sleepily at his words, letting them comfort her as she imagined a future so different than her plans had been.

***AAA***

"I did not have so many visitors in all my years living alone," Rumpelstiltskin said, his gleeful voice echoing as Snow and Elsa drew closer to the cage that held him. "It makes me feel like the belle of the ball." He spun in place, arms held out wide. "And what do the queens wish of me?"

"My husband, daughter, and the others haven't come back," Snow said, her hooded cape falling backward. "Tell us how to get to them." She held the dagger in her hands, shoulders back and her eyes staring at the wavy blade. "Tell us the spell we need to use now."

A stillness fell over them. "There is no spell." His words were straightforward, with the flowery riddles and hints. "It isn't something that…"

"He's lying," Elsa said, lunging toward Snow to retrieve the dagger. "Make him tell us. There's a locator spell that will work. I know it."

Snow's eyes dragged across the man, noting his posture. "Emma can always tell when someone is lying, a power she's had since childhood. But I can tell too. I have the dagger. He cannot lie to us."

"You do hold it," Rumpelstiltskin said frankly. "And your daughter holds what I hope is the ingredient to get to my son. So I have no reason to deceive you, despite your rather incomplete opinion of me."

Holding her breath, Snow stared at the man and wanted to stab him with that dagger, but knew that the repercussions would be greater than she could afford. "How did you get out of here the first time? I know it wasn't through your magic or cunning. We had guards watching. It was supposed to be impossible."

There was clearly a fight going on inside him, a struggle to resist the urges that came so natural and the pull of the dagger's power. "Cora," he said rather weakly. "Cora freed me."

Elsa placed a comforting hand on Snow's shoulder as she heard the other queen's anguished cry at that news. She wanted to ask about it, but she had heard stories of the woman, knowing that the evil there was far greater than any she had ever seen.

"No," Snow managed to say, "but Cora's dead. I killed her myself. I watched her die a full year before your imprisonment. It's impossible."

Given that there was no request for action or information in Snow's statements, the Dark One remained quiet. However, even with his head bowed, his ears were searching for details and his eyes would scan between them with fierce intensity. She suddenly remembered the purpose and stood back from the edge of the crevice and held up the dagger again. "How do we find my family?"

"Then ring, dearie. The answer is the ring. It's always been the ring." His explanation was listless and weary as she stared at the emerald on her hand. "Yes, that ring. It will take you to your true love."

"But will it get us back?" she asked, wary of his riddles and half truths. "Will we be able to return."

"If you do not dawdle or stray," he said, the sing-song quality to his words returning. "They should have used it before. The pirate would have led them to the princess and you would be sharing tea. But nobody asked me."

***AAA***

"Do you see anything, mate?" Killian called, his grip on the rope surprisingly secure for a man with one hand. "Any sign of the end of this blasted forest?"

The King's hand shielded his eyes as he scanned the foliage heavy horizon. Even as a child growing up on a farm he had not ever climbed as many trees, nor as high. The altitude was playing with his senses, but he was reluctant to show the effects to the others. Instead, he concentrated on the task and his breathing. Eventually requesting a bit of slack in the line so as to lower himself. To his relief, the pirate did not argue. However, it was his daughter's hauntingly hopeful expression that made him nearly break.

"It all appears the same," he explained, holding his chapped and blistered hands away from his body. "I see no end to it."

The hopefulness slid from Emma's face as if melting under the glare of reality. Yet she did not cry as he would expect many in her position. Instead, she busied herself with the duties of gathering the ropes and preparing to walk on with the rest. She passed her father some of the fabric from hers and Red's dresses and underskirts that they had been using as bandages.

"Emma, we will find a way," he tried to assure her.

"Yes, Papa," she said, reverting to his former moniker. "I'm sure of it."

He found himself too tired and without concern over his daughter's reckless and even brazen affection toward the pirate. She held his hand and slept next to him each night. There was no doubt that they were hardly intimate, but still the implication was there. He said nothing though, feeling that if Killian Jones provided Emma any measure of comfort, he was not about to argue the point.

Killian pulled her into his side for a hug before lowering his lips to the top of her head. The two exchanged a quick word before his daughter headed off in the direction of Red and Graham. The serenely anticipative expression on Killian's face fell away the moment she stepped through the tree line.

"You are keeping up the act for her," David said, tying off the latest bandage and testing its durability with a few stretches of his fingers. "She's strong enough to know that things aren't going well."

"I hardly see you saying anything to her that isn't encouraging," Killian noted, throwing the longest loop of the rope over his left shoulder. "I know that we are trying to solve this with logic and reason, but Emma possesses magic. I believe in her and her abilities. Is that so hard to fathom, your highness?"

Holding his bandaged hands up in surrender, David shook his head. "I appreciate your belief in her, though she doesn't seem to believe it yet. I only hoped that you were not doing it to spare her feelings and feed her false hope about our progress. You and I both know that this is becoming a fool's errand. Our best hope might lie with Elsa and Regina, though that thought scares me quite a bit."

"If the solution is within her, Emma will do it," he countered. "I believe that. I also believe that our situation is becoming precarious. We have not found more water since yesterday and according to Graham the game here is quite sparse. What he has found is not substantial enough to keep us going very long."

David heaved the last of the equipment they had fashioned into his arms and led Killian down the same path as Emma. "I'm glad to see that love has not swayed your take on our situation. Pirates are notorious for their practicality. We would not want word coming out that you have softened your stance and started to become optimistic."

Killian smiled into the collar of his leather coat. "I do suppose I have a balance of the two. We can't lose our wits or our hope."

***AAA***

Regina bowed over Snow's hand and inspected the ring there, not quite touching it but viewing it with certain appraisal. "I had heard of it, but I'm afraid I have basis for understanding its origins."

"According to the story that David would tell, his mother claimed it would lead you to your true love. She was known to say that 'true love follows this ring.'" The Queen drew her hand back to run a finger over the green stone. "I think that it may help us get them back."

Elsa stood just off center of the two women, her focus trained to a book in front of her. "I am not so sure. What if it just leads you into the forest? We don't even know that they are still alive. It has been days. If they found Emma, they still have to find their way out of the maze that is that forest."

"David managed it before," Regina said, rather glumly. Her dark red dress stood in stark contrast to her dark eyes and hair. The glinted tie about her waist showed off her slender stature. "Though I think the ring may have been enchanted further by Rumpelstiltskin at that point."

Snow looked pensively at Elsa, knowing that what she was about to say to her former stepmother would take more than tact. Stealing in a deep breath, she spoke quite plainly to the other queen. "Can we have a moment, Elsa?"

"Of course," the blonde said, gathering the purplish train of her skirts and departing through the heavy wooden door. "I will check on Belle."

An arched eyebrow was the only significant response from the former queen, as she watched Snow fidget slightly before motioning toward the other chair. "Have a seat, Regina," she said. "We have something we need to discuss."

"I am sure this is not good news, otherwise you would have let the ice queen stay with us."

Ignoring the comment directed toward Elsa, Snow's lips parted. "I went to see Rumpelstiltskin today, Regina. And while he was not as helpful as I might have liked, he said something that I think you should know."

Holding her breath, Regina looked toward the cold fireplace, noting that Snow had not had it lit in the past few nights. While she knew that Elsa did not mind the cold, she was sure that Snow still got chilled quite easily. It was clear that it was a way for Snow to feel more connected to her family and friends lost in the woods. They were sleeping on the cold ground and so she too had taken to lessening her own comfort. "I suppose he told you that I went to see him too," she confessed. "I wanted to know if…I wanted to know if there was something that could be done about this situation with Henry."

"I see," Snow said, not showing much emotion as she considered that. "I suppose that is not a surprise, but no he did not tell me of that. He said that he originally escaped by way of your mother. He said that Cora did not die in the way we had all thought."

"But I watched her…"

"As did I," Snow continued. "I don't know if she is still alive or if his riddles are just that. All I could discern from using the dagger was that Cora was not in this realm. If she is still alive…"

"She hasn't contacted me, Snow, not at all."

"I did not presume that she had," Snow answered quickly. "I only wanted to alert you to the possibility. I have no desire to fight another war over assumed slights and hurt feelings."

Regina crossed back over to Snow, abruptly grabbing her left hand and holding it before her own face. The ring glinted at her brightly. "My mother," she said, running her thumb over the stone, "spoke of a way to talk with your true love. I ignored her because I thought such things were not meant for me after Daniel's death."

The Queen blanched at the mention of the man's murder for which she had been blamed by Regina. It was the reason that for years the kingdom had been one at near civil war over its leadership. "How does it work?"

"I presume that he gave this to you? David, I mean."

"Yes, of course," Snow answered. "It was how he proposed." She did not detail the other interactions with the ring.

"Tell Elsa to come. We will need her help in brewing a tea. Once you drink it, you will be able to communicate with him through the ring. It won't be easy, but once he is asleep it should work."

***AAA***

Emma shook her head violently. "It's not worth the risk, Papa," she said, looking to Red and Killian for support. "You have scaled two trees today and Graham has scaled another. We have gotten no closer to finding our way out of this. There has to be another way."

Her braided hair was hanging limply over one shoulder, a few leaves and twigs embedded in it. Red was just off to her side, the red cape that protected her was slipping so she held it with a single fist.

"Emma, I don't know that we have another plan." Red's voice was sympathetic and guilt ridden. "I have fun far ahead and found nothing. I have spent the majority of the day in search of any clue as to an escape and found nothing. Our options aren't many. We can give up or we can continue trying to find a way out."

"You think I don't know that?" Emma said, frustration pouring out of her. "I can't do anything to make it right. I shouldn't have…" A flash flew from her hand as she waved it.

"Emma, love, please don't blame yourself," Killian said so quietly that she almost didn't hear. "Nobody here came without regard for their own safety. And your return is still our goal."

She stared down at her hand, watching the way her fingers wavered and trembled. It was not in her nature to give in and give up, but the threat of losing everyone was so real that she could not see a way out. Even if she told them to leave her, she was not guaranteed of their safety. She said a quick thank you again, turning her back to them and walking toward the horse she had been riding. Somehow it helped to busy herself with the mundane.

"Emma?" Killian approached her with his usual heavy footfalls that were hard to miss. However, the concern etched on his face seemed to make him appear softer. "Love, I know you need a moment's privacy, but I think we need to acknowledge that your magic…"

"It was just a flash. I can't control it. I can't make it happen again."

"Perhaps not, but it is not hopeful to see it work at all. You were concerned that it would not here in these woods. And for days it hasn't."

"Killian, I…"

"I only meant that you might wish to spend your time alone practicing these skills. It is worth a try." He took out a low hanging branch with his hook, capturing it under his foot after the fall. "Should you wish a partner to practice with, I hope you know that I'm available."

She grinned. "While I think you'd be more sympathetic and kind than Regina, I don't know that I could concentrate. When you're near me I tend to become a little flustered."

"Do tell, my love, I appreciate hearing that I may affect your presence of mind." The hopeful grin he had shown up with earlier had become a full on smirk. Holding out his hand, he offered it to her and without hesitation, she let him pull her toward him. "Emma, you have a gift that few can understand or accept. I, myself, have been quite averse to it for most of my many years. Yet, I trust you, love, to use it for good and right. If there is a magical way out of this forest, I know you will find it."

"How do you know that?" she asked sincerely, finding that spot at the crook of his neck where she felt herself melt a bit more. "I could not stop Rumpelstiltskin. I only saved Henry because I was foolish enough to believe I could be a substitute for him. I endangered you, my father, my godmother, and Graham. I feel like this is all a sign that I should quell my magic and try to live life normally."

"I should like to tell you all the ways that you saved me, but I know that we have work we must do." He pulled his head back, craning his neck so as to see her better. She took the hint and looked up at him. Though he didn't mean for it to be the reason they had escaped to this area alone, his lips crashed down on hers and almost bruisingly reacquainted themselves with the soft tenderness of her own. She sighed into his kiss, keeping her grasp on the back of his neck and his shoulder. The need for air soon parted them, but she couldn't help but give a short laugh at his still hopeful expression.

"You don't court me like the princes of other kingdoms."

"I'm far from a prince, love, but if you insisted upon it then I might do just that. Though there are no gardens for us to walk through with chaperones and it feels a bit silly to write to you when our bed rolls are next to each other at night."

"You're teasing."

He assured her that he was not, placing her arm through his bent one to walk her back to the others. She leaned her cheek into the soft leather that covered his shoulder and sighed. "I know that this situation we are in is dire, but I can't help but feel good with you near."

"Only good?"

"Maybe a bit better than that."

It would have been a good moment for a kiss, a seal to the promises they intended to make and the feelings that were still bubbling out from them. However, a sickening crack splintered through the air and filled them with dread. The snap was punctuated by a shout from the King and then a horrendous thump.


	31. Chapter 31

To hear his wife speak of magic, curses, and charms with the ease of one of the cooks talking of porridge in the kitchen was not something that Robin could ever fully accept and understand. He watched as she, still exuding the regal confidence that most would label as something worse, spoke with Elsa about the ingredients that still had to be gathered. Though she was clearly still addled from the past few days of having magic and then losing it again with the cuffs that she wore beneath her sleeves, he noted that her voice was laced with strength and even hints of frustration rather than softness.

"Wouldn't it be easier if you were to go?" Elsa asked, her brow furrowed as she stared at the parchment list. "I have never been one to cook spells and whatnot. I'm more of a…"

"Yes, I'm aware of your abilities. And if children and adults didn't still cower at the sight of the former Evil Queen, it would make sense for me to go." Regina drew a long finger down the table where they were currently storing all the documents and texts that might help them in their quest to reach the foursome still trapped in the Endless Forest. Its infinite boundaries would be too much to conquer without magical intervention. And without sacrificing others, reaching one of the four through a dream state would be the best of bets.

"I think we have bigger concerns than who is about to do the shopping," Grumpy said, living up to his name. The dwarfs had chosen him to represent them all in the conversations with Snow and the others. His short form not overlooked at the table, he was most concerned at the idea of surrendering their queen in a plan that was concocted by their former enemy. "Who exactly will be left in charge if Snow is unable to awaken from this curse?"

Snow's gentle and hopeful tone was out voiced by Regina who showed disdain without filter on her face. "I've already told you that this is not a curse. I am simply trying to give her something to prolong and deepen her sleep so that she might enter the dream realm without worrying about waking from it. As well, I am going to give her a few herbs that will aid in her navigation through that realm to reach Charming. It's all very safe and simple. She'll be awake again by morning with no ill effects."

The dwarf grumbled that he hoped that she would still have a kingdom when she woke, still not feeling all that comfortable with trusting a woman they had fought for years.

"I wouldn't risk the kingdom," Snow told him gently. "But it makes sense that I do this. I have been through a sleeping curse, which leaves me uniquely qualified if these books and whatnot are right. I should be able to better understand the navigation." She twisted the emerald ring on her finger, wishing that it truly did work as her husband's mother had claimed – leading to her true love. But it seemed to only do that at the bloom of love not throughout it. "I am so scared for them. I must do something to bring them home."

Regina scoffed at the teary eyed stepdaughter who had once believed her to be the answer to a prayer. "I doubt many of them are suffering. That wolf is probably appreciating her time in the forest, as is the huntsman. And the pirate might not be on the sea, but I doubt he is complaining at your daughter's side. I imagine he would walk through fire if she only asked him."

It was Elsa who had the good sense to get the conversation back on track, asking about the availability of items. "I have never really shopped," she admitted. As most royals did, she had people bring things to her, tailors, designers, bakers, craftsmen, and more. "Won't…"

"I will do the shopping," Granny interrupted, her hands trembling a bit with age and perhaps adrenaline. "You are going to make sure that the ingredients are authentic and possess the magic that you will need to concoct this thing."

***AAA***

Emma felt the last of her emotional strength fade and melt into a puddle of screaming tears as she ran toward the crumpled form of her father there on the forest floor. His limbs were twisted and wounds both deep and superficial marred his flesh. She sank next to him, what was left of the beauty of her gown staining with mud and muck.

Even Killian was silent as she let her green eyes rove over him with only Ruby saying anything. No one was even sure if Emma heard her godmother's explanation as to why he was in such a state. However, the dark haired beauty knew she needed to tell her friend's only daughter the truth.

"He thought he saw something," Ruby stammered, reaching fruitlessly for Emma's trembling hand. "The branch broke." Graham pointed to it as though it might deserve punishment for its treason, eying it suspiciously. "We couldn't get to him in time. Emma, I tried."

"It was an accident," Emma said softly, her fingers running over a patch of skin that remained as she remembered. "He wouldn't have wanted…"

"He's alive," Red clarified. "But the injuries are severe and without a surgeon…I was thinking perhaps you could heal him. I know you did so with Hook there."

Sheepishly Ruby stared at the spot that had been blemished with an angry red cut that Emma had healed easily. However, the Princess's lack of confidence shown in her tear filled eyes and her head waved back and forth with growing ferocity. "I'm not strong enough. What if…What if I hurt him? It could kill him."

"Doing nothing will kill him," Graham said, holding his hand atop Red's shoulder. "Princess, I know this is not normal circumstances, but if you don't try it will surely be the last moments for your father."

"You are special, love," Killian added, his own hand hovering near her back. "Your powers are enough to make the bloody Dark One cower. You can do this. You can save your father."

Lacing her fingers together and bringing her hands up toward her mouth, she looked at the bloodied and mangled form of her father before her. She could hear his voice in her head, telling her of adventures and magic from long ago. He had always spoken of Lake Nostos and other places that she imagined in her youth, places that could heal and protect, find lost people and objects. He believed in those things. He believed in her. Yes, he'd had fears of her magic, not wanting her to be different or as Hook said, special. He wanted her to have a normal life with a husband and children. When she had run away she had destroyed the connection between them

"I'll try," she said, dipping her head in what might have been a moment of contemplative prayer or mediation before extending her hands with palms down and fingers splayed. At first there was no visible reaction, merely a trembling that she felt from within. Graham and Red averted their eyes from hers, hoping to give her the privacy that would build confidence as if that would help. But Killian kept his blue eyes trained on her hands, encouraging her softly as the light stuttered and then shown from her fingers.

Her lashes created shadows on her damp cheeks as she moved her hands just inches over her father's sleeping form. The glow ebbed and flowed dramatically and her body shook with the effort. Marred skin was healed and abrasions disappeared under the magic that flowed out of her.

Graham gasped at the sight, blinking to reassure himself it was not an illusion. Emma tried to concentrate on her father, but she could hear Killian's words to spur on her continued tirade of magic, including calling her bloody brilliant and magnificent. Her hands stopped at the top of her father's head, the magic not trickling but abruptly stuttering to a conclusion. And while he looked to be simply napping on the damp forest floor, his injuries no longer visible, his eyes remained shut to the world.

Emma teetered sideways, collapsing against the pirate with an exhaustion that seemed to overtake her. He did not flinch at the addition of her weight against him, embracing her and whispering his admiration and comfort as she sobbed uncontrollably either from fear, relief, or a mixture of the two.

***AAA***

Belle's shoes wore the dusty remnants of another visit to the dungeon chamber that held the Dark One, something Regina and Snow immediately discerned as the woman entered the family quarters. Her expression pained as she curtsied to both women, Belle folded one hand over the other and breathed in shakily as she waited for acknowledgement.

"Whatever it is just say it," Regina instructed, ignoring the pointed look from the reigning queen.

"I believe I can get him to help us find your family, Queen Snow," she began, taking a single step closer to the two. "My father spoke of the Dark One's ability to see into the future as well as into the minds of people. Perhaps this would useful?"

"We need to know where they are located not what the weather will be tomorrow," Regina scoffed, turning her attention back to the map of the kingdom that had long been used for defensive meetings. "Unless he's willing to provide that information, I don't see any reason to continue visiting the imp."

Snow's reaction was much more subdue, one side of her mouth lifting in understanding. "It's a nice idea, Belle, but I don't think we or at least I can bring myself to trust him. No, it's better to exhaust our other means." She looked about the sitting room and its ornate furniture and fabrics. "I'm so sorry, Belle. I know that you must hope that he can…"

"I hope to be of help to you," Belle said weakly. "I only want to help you return your family and the others."

They took time to speak of books where the infinite forest was mentioned, finding no record detailing of anyone other than King David who had escaped its endless maze. He had help, Snow explained to the waifish woman. Rumpelstiltskin had enchanted a ring to guide him to her. She told the story as if talking of someone else, some other couple's love. Maybe that was a help, she told herself. Maybe she could make things more bearable if she pretend it was someone else. However, the tears on her cheeks and on Belle's told her that she failed at that. And for a moment she caught a glimmering reflection on Regina's too. Snow wiped at her cheeks and excused herself, disappearing behind the curtained off dressing area.

"You don't trust me, do you?" Regina asked the other woman.

"You attempted to kidnap and hold me away from Rumple and from my family. Forgive me for not trusting that you have changed your heart as well as your behavior."

Regina sat regally on the chair, her pinched face giving no satisfaction to the biting words. "I suppose I deserve that lack of trust, but I must ask. I must ask what it is that he has done that has makes him more redeemable in your eyes. For all the evil things I have done will never be a fraction of his deeds."

"He is cursed," Belle said, drawing the taupe cape about her tighter. "You chose everything you did. You chose to be evil because you couldn't get the life you wanted. There is a difference."

"I'm not here to defend myself, but I will say that he is hardly as innocent as he would have you believe, Belle. He chose to take on that curse the same was you chose that frock you are wearing today. And he has chosen to keep those powers even after…even after it cost him his family. You can deny that all you wish, but he's no hero."

***AAA***

Elsa tugged at the oversized brown gloves that Granny had handed her during their walk from the stables toward town. The very process of walking and not taking a gilded carriage is foreign enough, but Granny threw a near fit at the realization that the Queen of Arendelle's hands were without callous or scar.

"Those aren't the hands of a kitchen maid or cook," Granny announced, throwing her own shawl down in resigned disgust. "No one will believe us."

Elsa looked down at her hands, wondering why she was so ashamed of their lack of character in that moment. She had replaced her normal finery with a dull tan dress that had been patched and altered a number of times. Delicate slippers were now laced boots and jewelry was removed. Even her glinting white gold hair was dulled and plaited beneath and brown and blue hood that had the singe marks of its previous owner's penchant for standing too close to the fire in the winter.

Giving a warning look to the Queen of the northern kingdom, the older woman stopped cold and drew in a breath. "Well, those will have to do," she said. "Remember, no formal talk. No magic. And absolutely none of this." The woman gave her best impression of flitting about aimlessly, lifting the edge of her skirts as though traipsing along a path with nary a worry in the world.

"I know what to do, Mrs. Lucas," Elsa said defensively, leaving out how she never flitted about that way.

"Granny. Everyone calls me Granny. If this is to work, you're a girl working with me not my superior and certainly not a queen. You call me Granny."

"Yes, Granny," Elsa said, the familiar type name sounding strange. She had never known her own grandparents and never felt the affectionate name had meaning to her. It certainly wasn't a name she expected to use on the discerning woman with narrow eyes that glared at her over spectacles. "I think I'm ready."

Maybe if she had sounded more sure Granny would have talked about the weather or even crops as they made their way to town in a wagon that had none of the features fit for royalty. Instead Granny made her practice her posture and her words, correcting the preciseness of her enunciation and filling in with slang and naturalness that were anything but to the Queen. By the time they reached the apothecary, she was no longer worried. Frustrated? Yes, but she did not seem to notice that people ignored her as they crossed the busy street and dodged the horses and pedestrians. She did not cringe when men leered at her or the way the assistant tried to undress her with his eyes.

When she noted that the ingredients were right in line with those prescribed by Regina, Granny tossed a few coppers in the direction of the proprietor. He must have been impressed, as he wrapped their purchases carefully and even offered to have his assistant bring their cart round for them.

"That stuff," Granny said, her hands loosely holding the reigns that the two bay horses pulled at in the direction of the palace, "it'll put Snow to sleep."

"Poppies have that property," Elsa said, her fingers circling the muslin pack of different herbs and ingredients. "Whistle root is to help her navigate the dream world. And the dried leaves of the odder stem will keep her alert in that state."

"I thought you never cast spells like that," the older woman said accusingly, guiding the horses around the long way. Just in case anyone was watching the two mismatched shoppers, Granny hoped to send them in another direction by taking an indirect route to the palace. "You seem in tune with these ingredients."

"My parents never encouraged magic, but they were versed in herbs and the like. Whenever my sister or I were ill as children, my father would blend up some sort of tea with herbs that had healing properties. I suppose I picked up a bit of that, as well as reading over the past few days. The former Queen Regina doesn't dabble much in the more natural arts, but she does have a bit of that information." Elsa blinked against the spring sun that seemed to warm the kingdom beyond its needs. While she had heard the dangers of the infinite forest, she wondered if Emma and the others could see that same sun, feel its warmth, and follow its path. Somehow she doubted it, as the images in her mind of the place they were trapped included a thick umbrella of foliage and winding trails that doubled back on themselves.

"And this concoction will be safe for Snow?" Granny pressed. "I don't mean to subscribe to conspiracy theories like Grumpy or the rest, but trusting Regina is beyond many of us. It wouldn't be unheard of her to try to kill our Queen with poison. And while she is cuffed again and unable to perform magic, she could…"

"Use me to do her bidding," Elsa concluded, her defined features crumbling as she considered that. "I hope that you don't think I would ever willingly…"

"I don't trust easily, nor do I have the fine education that many may have had over their years. But I assure you that I do watch over Snow and her family very carefully. And I do hope that you know what you are doing, your majesty." Granny tightened her hands on the reigns. "Now let's get these ingredients back so we can get them back home."

***AAA***

It was not the richest or brightest stew she had ever tasted, as the meat was quite gamey and the herbs and roots not as good of quality. Yet the taste of something that had been simmering over the fire tasted good on her tongue as he carefully spooned it into her mouth. She felt a heaviness about her that was not usual, but at least she was blinking, breathing, and speaking again.

"I'm capable of feeding myself," she said, hazarding a glance toward where her father still lay sleeping on the floor of the forest. Red had fashioned him a bed with one of the blankets over leaves and brush that Killian had cut for just that purpose. Hardly the mattresses of the palace, but it was serviceable. Another of the blankets covered him. "Is he?"

"Sleeping," Killian answered her, dipping the wooden spoon back into the weak broth. "His color appears good, as does his breathing. I suppose we just wait."

"Did I…" She cleared her throat, looking at her hands and then back at her father. "Did I do any good at all?"

"You helped him, love. It was quite lovely to see that light and feel the warmth of your magic. There's nary a scratch on him now. I simply think he is sleeping to let his body catch up to the repairs. You were brilliant, my love, simply brilliant." He tipped the spoon toward her parted lips, smiling encouragingly as she sipped. "I'm afraid it exhausted you though. You have slept for nearly as long as your father. Red has worried about you. Though she is not yet back to check on you. She and the huntsman have gone in search for grazing areas for the horses. Should be back soon though."

She swallowed. "And you? Did you worry about me?"

"I find myself in a constant state of wonder with you. While I cannot name it as worry, you are never far from my thoughts." Kneeling, he rocked backwards and craned his neck back to look at the coverage of the branches that blocked out much of the sky.

"You miss it, don't you?"

"You will have to be more specific." He let her remove the spoon from his hand and allowed her to feed herself. She was clearly feeling stronger after the nap though her hand shook with the effort of it.

"Being at sea?" She glanced upwards. "This place is so very claustrophobic. It feels as if it is all caving in on us." She did not lift the spoon again, letting it rest in the broth.

"Are you asking that out of concern for me or to have me declare my feelings for you are stronger than they are for my ship and crew?" The right corner of his mouth rose in a subtle smirk. "I do miss the night sky, which is substantially more beautiful on sea than on land. But I don't miss the endless days of searching and the longing that I had developed for you. And while I don't know that I fully recognize my life without a quest for revenge, I assure you, my love, that I have no regrets." He looked to the bowl. "Now eat up. We can't have you falling ill."

She didn't feel all that weak, though an argument could be made. So she shifted, looking skyward herself. "I'm not that hungry."

He didn't argue with her. Setting aside the bowl, he moved to her side, resting his arms on his bent legs. "I have been thinking…"

She wavered a bit, even in her sitting position feeling the heaviness of her body and the pull of needed rest. There was no way that he didn't notice, pulling her toward him and pushing aside whatever thoughts he might have had to tell her. "This won't do at all," he said, adding a bit of mirth to his voice. "We can't have the princess so outside herself that she might crumple and fall in the slightest breeze. Come now. You can use this old pirate as a pillow if you like."

"You were going to say something?"

"Perhaps I was just going to tell you some tale of life on the seas, of some realm that sounds so much better than the place we find ourselves now. Or perhaps it was just some boring drabble that was meant to put you to sleep." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I can't quite remember."

"Because you are so old?" That made both of them chuckle.

"Aye, you will be taking on quite a task with me if we are to make our lives together, Princess. You'll be reminding me of where I left things and massaging my aching muscles."

"Doesn't sound like too bad of a fate to me."

***AAA***

The royal bedroom rarely saw so much traffic, save the royal couple and their attendants. However, it was quite full of people that late afternoon. Johanna had the three boys playing a short distance away, but all other visitors crowded into the normally cavernous room.

"You don't have to do this," Regina said as Elsa and Granny brewed the tea for Snow over the fire. "You are more than capable of ruling this kingdom and raising your son to do the same. No one would blame you if you were to look out for the people rather than plan some rescue mission."

"That's what you want," Grumpy said in that gruff way he had, folding the blanket that was made from patches of Emma's dresses that she had worn as a child. "Isn't it? If she leaves the King and Emma there in that forest to die, you get to keep that boy. You keep Emma's son."

"Grumpy, please," Mary Margaret said, situating herself on the bed that she usually shared with her husband. Fluffy pillows surrounded her, as did the velvety blankets that were fit for royalty. It was quite different than her days as a bandit, sleeping on branches and leaves, the ground her only comfort as she caught naps between runs and missions. "Regina is only warning me of my options. And while this may seem to some a very selfish task, I'm ready to accept that. I need to know that I am doing all I can to return those four home."

Robin, from his spot by the door, nodded in agreement. "I dare say not a one of the kingdom's residents would argue with you. The dwarves and I will join with the guards to watch over the castle while you slumber, milady. No enemy shall cross the borders."

"Thank you, Robin," Snow said, folding her hands in her lap. "And none of you should worry. I'm simply taking a nap. This is not a curse."

"Of course not," Regina spat. "Alright. Once you are under you will have a limited amount of time to contact him. If he is not there, that means he's not asleep. And you will have to try again later if that is the case."

Elsa carried the steaming cup over, its contents a murky green color with hints of browns and grays. "There is more than enough tea to try at least 10 more times," she said, settling on the stool that had been placed by the bed. "I only brewed a bit of it so that you might try again if necessary."

"Thank you, Elsa," Snow said, taking the cup and wrapping a hand around it. "Here's hoping I will only need that on a sleepless night beside my husband."

She held the cup up to her lips, the floral pattern of forget-me-nots painted delicately on the porcelain cup. "I'll see you all soon." Her green eyes scanned the worried faces staring back at her. "Please don't worry. It's just a nap."

***AAA***

Emma moved from under the protective arm of the pirate at her side and stumbled over to her father. She knew that Killian had told her that he was sleeping, unaware of the precarious situation that had befallen him, but she wanted to feel the warmth of his skin and see the color in his cheeks before she could knowingly rest. Light from the setting sun cracked through the breaks in the branches and leaves, giving an orange glow to him as she sank down to the earth.

"Papa," she said quietly, her hand tracing over the scar on his right hand. It was the remnant of a fight he'd had as a child, a souvenir that reminded him not to lose him temper under minor provocation. He had once told her the story of it when she had let her magic flare at a jealous princess from another kingdom, scaring both her and her victim into tears. She'd sworn then that she would never lose control again, earning the story from his childhood.

He lay there unmoving, for all the world asleep. "I am so sorry, Papa. I shouldn't have let you risk yourself like that. I should have been better at fighting the Dark One. Whatever the reason you are here like this, I'm sorry, Papa. I'm so sorry." She lifted his slack hand up to her cheek, reveling for a moment that there was still warmth in it. "I'm going to fix this. I am."

She knew there was a little daylight left, far too little to set out on a journey on her own. But the attempts at healing him earlier had shown her that with the proper concentration her magic could work even in the suffocating foliage of these woods. It was not just the trees so tall that their tops were unseen by eyes, clouds hanging in their branches to obscure the view. It was the impenetrable mass of underbrush and the paths that wound and drove in directions that seemed correct until all twisted and ended in that same familiar finale. But there had to be a way. And if her assumption that time was running out for them was correct, she had to make her move soon. She had to save them before it was too late.

***AAA***

"Is she sleeping?" Robin asked, his bow at his side as his wife entered the hallway. "Already?"

"Poppies are quite fast acting when they are in that form. It's quite nearly instantaneous." Regina rested her hand on the door, her fingers smoothing the grain of the wood. "If he's asleep at the same time…well, this could all be over soon."

"You think that…"

"I think that I know the Queen and her husband well. She'll find him and beg him to help us locate him. He will be unable, but the noble side of him will tell her to give up. Eventually she will listen." She turned, the dark green of her dress fitting to her form as she spun. "Or perhaps true love will prevail."

"You don't sound convinced. Have we not seen the miracles that true love can create?

"I don't disbelieve," she conceded. "Robin, I'm not an optimist. That's Snow. I'm not even…I'm practical, pragmatic, and strategic. There is nothing in me other than my ability to perform magic that speaks to happy endings and enchantments. But that is Snow. She has always had that heart inside her. And I believe that perhaps her daughter does too. That's where Henry must get his belief in good from."

"He must get some of that from you. You have been a loving mother to the boy for years. That stands for something."

"Perhaps it does," Regina said. She placed three fingers at the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. "I think I should get a bit of rest myself."

"Of course," Robin said, holding the bow a bit higher. "I shall watch over you as well, darling. Sleep well."

***AAA***

Cresting the hill, Snow gasped for breath, wondering why even in her dreams it seemed that the run was tiring. Shouldn't she be able to fly in her dreams or at least run without becoming winded. Her golden flecked green eyes scanned the horizon, seeing nothing but the darkness of the forest and its constant walls of underbrush. Even above her the pines and firs towered out of sight, their evergreen branches providing a canopy over the earth that even the sun only penetrated in small amounts.

"Charming?" she called out, darting forward again. "David?"

Snow found him in the clearing, the trees giving way a bit up a slight rise and creating a near circle free from the oppressive flora. It reminded her a bit of the spot where he had found her so many years before, her fate sealed by Regina and a poison apple. He had said that their love guided him there. She had learned not to doubt him.

"Charming," she said, the nickname feeling more familiar in that moment than his birth name. "Charming, it's you…"

He turned to her slowly, even in this sleep state his eyes blinking in disbelief as she flung herself up the path toward him. "Snow, you're…you're here."

"It's a dream," she said, interrupting him as she watched him stumble to his feet. Even in the dream state he stood and looked the same, wiping his hands on the leather pants he wore on his hunting trips and journeys. "I didn't know if you would be asleep, but I had to try."

"I'm…I'm not sure what I am." He held out his arm, studying it as though it was foreign to him. "I have been hurt. Emma, she tried to heal me."

"It's why you're asleep," she finished dejectedly. "I thought…I thought we were past all this. All those days of serving cross purposes and finding each other. I thought we were done with all that." A sickish laugh split the cool air. "This is what I was so scared our life would be…one journey after another, searching and searching…"

"We always find each other," he said just as sadly, pulling her hands together in his grip. "I don't see that as a bad thing."

"Isn't it? You're hurt and lost. There is nothing I can do. What can I do? How do I reach you so that you can come home to me?" Her head thrashed back, the dark hair whipping free of its confines. "You aren't going to be able to even tell our daughter how to get out of there."

"You have a plan?"

"No," she admitted, stilling in his eyes. "I hoped you could tell me something…anything…"

"The air, my love, the air. The answer must come from the air. I was…in a tree. I was trying to find the way out by taking to the air to see the path." He shook his head. "I cannot expect you to take flight like a bird, but if anyone could it would be you. You have always loved your birds." Smiling fondly, he sighed. "I don't have the answer or a plan either."

"Maybe…" she paused, looking skyward to the canopy of green needles and clouds. "David, what about the fairies? Don't you remember when we were battling your father and Regina? We always had them lead the way through the sky as we followed after on foot. What if we did that again? Blue and the others? They might have enough magic to combat this forest."

"You might just have the answer, Snow."


	32. Chapter 32

The late afternoon sun beat down on the Queen and her predecessor, warming them in the springtime garden setting. Flowers were just beginning their bloom and bees drifted from bud to bud as the two women sat on the stone benches and held delicate tea cups in their laps.

Regina still carried herself as she had in her youth, the straight back of a royal and the pinched expression of a woman with an agenda. She waited as patiently as she could as the servant brought over a tray of lemon and cream for her stepdaughter, biting her tongue against saying anything rude and derogatory about the way the reigning monarch took her tea.

"It's a lovely day," she said, hoisting the cup up to her mouth and tasting the sour fakeness of her words rather than the amber liquid. "As such days go."

Snow stirred her cup slowly, her lips in a tight line and her eyes only widening for a second at Regina's attempt at conversation. She'd already seemed quite unprepared for the woman who had been charged with helping to raise her. They were not the type to sit quietly and appreciate idle conversation, even in the depths of their tenuous truce.

"I have just a few hours until I should hear back from Blue," Snow said, blowing slightly on the hot liquid as she did as a child. "Perhaps you should just tell me what this about."

Regina opened her mouth and shut it again quickly. Then opened it again. "I think that you should consider ordering Rumpelstiltskin to remove the magical cuffs from me. I realize that you have that other Queen to do most of the bidding in terms of spells and enchantments, but I would be of more use than a woman who makes snowflakes appear if her feelings are hurt."

"I don't know that it is a good idea to remove the dagger from its protected spot, Regina." Snow had locked the dagger away, telling no one that Regina was aware of where it was currently. And despite the woman's penchant for gossip and sharing secrets as a child, Snow seemed capable of silence now. Its concealment remained a mystery.

"Only when it serves your purpose, I suppose," Regina pouted. "Elsa has proven completely worthless when it comes to the removal. And no amount of reading from that bookworm has revealed anything."

"Regina, perhaps he's not lying when he says there is no way for him to remove the cuffs," Snow said patiently, staring skyward for the sign of Blue's return to the castle. It had been a while, but she had heard nothing. And while she might have liked to have been alone with her worry, the enormity of the crown seemed to always weigh upon her. "And couldn't we wait until this is all a bit more settled?"

"Is there a reason that you don't want me to have my magical powers back? Is that it?"

"Regina, don't take this personally. I only mean that it is dangerous for us to unlock the dagger again. If we ignore the true mission of reuniting my family, I'm afraid that we stand to make a mistake and somehow allow the Dark One to get the upper hand."

Regina pretended to sip again, not wanting to play her hand again so soon. The younger of the two made a short glance toward the edge of the hedge maze where Leo was playing some sort of knights' game with the younger two boys. Smiling, she complimented Henry's stance and natural ability at the play fighting. "You have taught him well."

Not saying thank you or dispelling the compliment, Regina let her own eyes graze over the scene. "He is a born leader, bosses Roland around but is patient as well."

"I know that he will thrive here with Emma," Snow said so casually that she did not notice the way that Regina bristled at the comment. "He will have Leo to learn from and the love of his mother. It will be good for him. And you may visit often."

***AAA***

Red carried the load of sticks and branches in her arms, stopping suddenly when she heard the barely perceptible break in the stillness that indicated an animal. Lifting a single hand, she gestured toward it, allowing Graham to take aim with the bow and arrow. She held her breath as he drew back and aimed, his eyes nearly slits as he watched the rabbit.

"Now," she hissed, sensing the creature's imminent retreat. With a snap the arrow released and sailed through the air to piece the animal. "Good. That's dinner."

"You truly see nothing of shame in killing?" he asked, taking a few steps in the direction of the animal. "No sense of regret or remorse."

"We're not killing for sport. It's food. Survival." She readjusted her load to two arms again. "Would you rather we starve?"

"No, but perhaps a little thought would be nice." He set himself to work, throwing her a look over his shoulder. "When you are in the form of a wolf, do you kill for sport?"

"No," she said with a sigh. "A wolf's instincts are more natural. Man is the only one who kills for sport, sir."

The conversation between them was easier after that, Graham trying not to talk about wolves or the hunting skills in general. Red tried to be a bit more open without being as brash as she usually was with people. For his physical strength and prowess, Graham was a quiet man, almost shy. He was quite studious and entertained her with stories he had read at night when camping by a fire or on winter days when he was cooped up in the small cabin he had toward the edge of the royal property.

"You miss it?" she asked, her back against the tall tree near him, neck craned back as she stared upward. "Home?"

"Don't we all?" he asked more brusquely than he may have intended. "Princess Emma is surely tired of such trials and tests of her strength and power. And the Captain cannot help but miss his ship and the sea. I daresay we all have something at home that calls to us."

"I suppose," Red mulled thoughtfully. "I am different though. I prefer the freedom of the forest. Maybe not this forest…"

He nodded thoughtfully, tying up his kill to one of the branches to carry with them. When he was finished he stood, trembling a bit from having stooped so long. "She's quite remarkable, isn't she?"

Red knew better than to be jealous. Graham was older than Emma, who had been born when he was already a man. And there was truth to his words. "I'm not sure if I am more proud of her for her accomplishments or wary of the responsibility they carry," Red said, hoping he would understand her meaning.

"I suppose magic can be a burden."

"One she did not ask for or want," Red continued. "She's the product of true love. That is on her parents, not her. Still she wears it well. I do so hope that her father will recover nicely. I don't want her to feel the pressure of his failing health if her magic was not enough."

The two made their way along the path, a rope they had spread on their way from camp helping guide them back. Graham offered to lessen her burden of the bundle of sticks and branches, but she rebuffed his efforts. "I suppose I want her to know a normal life."

"And you don't think she will have that with the pirate? Because I see that he quite fancies her and she him. Even the King is coming around to accepting that his daughter is determined."

"I want her to be happy. And if it is with him, then so be it."

***AAA***

Belle looked shocked as Snow pushed the once curled map toward her. "I sent word to him a few days ago," the Queen said gently, watching as the woman tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "We…I heard back this morning."

"Papa's still alive?" she asked, sounding timid. She had known when she had made the decision to leave her father and others behind that a reunion might never happen. "Truly?"

"Apparently," Snow confirmed with curt nod. "The ogres did quite a lot of damage to your homeland, but it has persisted and been at peace for some time. I understand that you have spent quite some years with the Dark One as his captive and servant?"

"It was not of my choice originally, but I have grown to understand him and appreciate him."

"And perhaps love?" Snow asked. "I know this is not a discussion that you want to have with the queen who has the Dark One's fate in her grasp. But Belle, decisions will be made soon. I have summoned the Blue Fairy and she is gathering the other fairies to assist in the return of those in the Infinite Forest. Things will be forming a new sort of normal around here with their return or without it. I had the intention of offering you the opportunity to return to your home."

"Without Rumple?"

Snow readjusted her stance in her seat, her normally docile gowns replaced as of late with the more flexible and utilitarian trousers and tunics that she had worn in her youth. Her dark hair was swept from her face and her high cheekbones were as pink as her full lips. She did not look to be old enough to have a grown daughter and a grandson, but she was. Only a few wiry gray hairs streaked her raven braided tresses. "I cannot free him," she said with only a hint of regret. "He has terrorized for centuries, destroying all that is useless to him and playing the rest of us as pawns and against each other. He has no place in this or any kingdom where he might rise into power again."

"So you intend to kill him?" Belle asked softly. "He's a man. Underneath the darkness there is still a man there."

"I don't relish killing anyone, even those with a fair trial and sentencing. Yet he's immortal as the Dark One. The only option that we have is to keep him contained until and unless another solution is found. But I would not set much hope on that."

***AAA***

Emma could hear the gentle snore coming from Graham and the slight whimper of Red as she dozed near him. They had become quite close over the past few days there, turning to each other for wisdom, advice, and comfort. She was not innocent enough to believe that their forays deeper into the woods had been without physical connection as well.

Killian sat a few feet from her father, his back against the aged trunk of a tree so tall that she could not ever see the top of it. His eyes, heavy from lack of sleep, were staring into the waning flames of the fire that kept away the bitter chill and perhaps some of the threats that lurked in the darkness.

"It is quite a sin that you should look so beautiful even after sleeping on the hard ground, my love," he said as she approached. Her steps were far from graceful, muscles screaming in agony from the lack of comfort that she had been accustomed to for so long. "But one that I shall thank the gods for in their wisdom."

"And you shouldn't say such things in the middle of the night with the ears of others so close," she said in a teasing warning. "Someone might assume and get the wrong idea."

The provisions they had saved were low, only enough for a day or two at most. Even with Graham's hunting skills, Killian's precision, and Red's tracking, they would likely have to find a miracle to survive much longer. Emma snuck a few looks at the sacks that were almost empty, reconfirming her earlier inclination that they would have been better off without her there. Even the horses were worse off, what with no fields for grazing and limited water to drink.

The pale blue material of her dress was tinted with mud and muck from days and days of walking and riding. Even as a child she had cared for her belongings better than that, a rip in a dress earning her a stern talking to a requirement of an apology to the royal tailor. Snow had made sure she was a skilled archer and her father required her to learn to fence. However, she was still expected to behave like a lady and look the part.

"You seem vexed, love. You are still worried over your father?"

"He should be awake by now," she answered, peering over at her father's sleeping form. "There's no reason…" There were other topics going through her mind, but none she was about to put to the light of the fire and announce to him. He would and could convince her that she should stay with him, wait for rescue that might never come. And she knew she would if he asked her. She would sit there and watch everyone starve or go crazy, as that was what happened to those lost too long in the maze of those woods.

She'd heard stories as a child, terrible nightmarish things. There were the stories of the hunters and trappers lost in the depths of that forest, nothing remaining of them but legends. There was even rumored to be a set of black knights from Regina's reign who were said to march through those woods, seeking out the bandit Snow White – not knowing their mission was over and their duties no longer of consequence to the dethroned Evil Queen.

"Love, if it were not for you and your incredible magic, he would surely not be awake. He probably would not have survived at all. So the timeline you have placed seems quite arbitrary."

"All we have is time, right?" she asked, rubbing her chin on the leather of his coat. It was a quilted shoulder, far more dark and dangerous looking that the fitted leathers her father wore when hunting. Yet there was a comfortable softness to it that she appreciated.

"Aye, someday we will look on these days and wonder why we were so desperate for normalcy. I will try to be grateful for it though, appreciative of this time together." He almost sounded as though he meant it, his words flowery as he spoke to her of his earlier years and asked after hers. She must have looked shocked, green eyes studying his to see if there was any sign that he had gone mad from the endless circling and lack of progress. "Love, I don't know what is appropriate conversation at this moment. I was just attempting…"

"I appreciate the efforts," she said softly, less agitated than she had felt when he was asking her the name of the first horse she had owned. "I'm sorry, Killian. I am so sorry that I…

"You owe me no apologies, lass. If we begin apologizing now, we'll never know any other conversations. For I can beg for forgiveness for each man I have slain and each treasure I have stolen. But it is not their grace I seek, but yours. For it is your opinion of me that matters most, my love. I fear it has made me into a lesser man for always seeking your favor when I know I am not as deserving as I should be."

"This again?" she asked, cupping his cheek with her trembling hand. "I thought we had settled that I am a princess, a royal who is quite used to getting what she wants. My wanting you is not about worthiness, Killian. It is about loving the man you are and the man I can see you being. You speak of your past as though it is unforgivable, but you have not brought embarrassment upon a kingdom. I have. You have not been the source of rumor and innuendo as a child grew inside me and his father disappeared to a strange and unusual realm that apparently has no magic to speak of."

"Perhaps I judge myself in a harsher light that you do," he said, dropping his eyes from hers after she had given him a searching look of her own. "You, my love, bring out things in me that I am not all that sure were always there."

"You are a good man with a good heart, Killian. I know that. Even if you don't believe it all the time, I can see that in you." She shifted a little, wrapping her free arm around her bent legs. "You were once seeking revenge, were you not?"

"Aye, and quite content that my life should end once I found it."

"And now that you have found it in a different way," she said, turning her head so as not to study him to closely. "Are you satisfied? With the end result, I mean."

His right arm was draped over his bent knee and his hook laden arm slung across her shoulder, tightly holding her to him. "I will not lie and say that it is the way I had imagined or the result I might have planned to have, but it is the result that has presented itself. So long as he is not about and terrorizing the realm with his trickery and dark magic, I feel that I have succeeded. I may never have had the opportunity to see him run through with the blade of my sword, but I have found other more satisfying images to fill my mind. You being one."

"Just one?" she teased. "I thought I took up more of your mind than that. Don't tell me that Mr. Smee and I occupy the same amount of your thoughts."

He chuckled. "No, my love, you are not in competition with my first mate." His jaw cracked with his laughter mixed with a yawn. In response Emma pressed a few of her fingers to the underside of it.

"You should sleep," she said, kissing his cheek. "I am awake now. I can watch the fire and alert everyone if there is a problem."

"I've held my share of night watches, my love. This is no different."

"It doesn't make sense for us both to be awake. Sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

***AAA***

Regina softly closed the door to the room where her son slept peacefully, his battle lost after begging her to read to him. While she had never been that much of a hands on parent, she could not resist the pull of his plea.

"I was wondering where you were, darling," Robin said, his footsteps just as quiet on the stone floor of the hallway. "Are Henry and Roland both sleeping?"

"Yes, they are both comfortable." Regina placed her hand at the door as if to cover it with some sort of protection charm, remembering at the last moment that Rumpelstiltskin had bound her magic in a way that Elsa had still not seen fit to remove. Even Snow had not seen fit to demand its removal, claiming that her focus had to be on finding David, Emma, and the others rather than making demands with a dagger that could be easily taken from her. Regina was sure it was just an excuse, but it was not something she could fight further without appearing incredibly selfish. "Any word from those fairies?"

"They are setting out by sunset tomorrow. Their dust in low light should be easier to see then." He smiled. "It is not every day that I discuss fairies with my wife."

"I suppose not. Did…Did Snow make any…"

"She asked after Henry, but she did not make any statement about the future. She is very curious about him and his habits. I think that she is taken with the idea of him being around the palace. He seems to love young Leopold and of course Emma."

The former queen flinched at the mention of the other woman's name. "I don't know if I can do this," she admitted. "She would expect me to give him up so that her daughter may raise him. She knows more than anyone how it is to be raised by someone different than the mother you knew."

"It is not exactly the same thing, but I suppose it will take some adjustment. Henry's resilient though. He will be loved and happy no matter where he lays his head at night."

"I wish I believed that. And I don't think you believe it either. Henry is my son. If someone claimed Roland as theirs, you wouldn't just allow it. You would fight back with everything that you had. I came here and agreed to a truce with people who stripped away what was mine only to find out that they are going to do it again. And you want me to sit back and watch it happen. I won't do that. I will leave this infernal palace and take my son with me. The Dark One may have no use for me in terms of a deal, but he will. I have a plan."

Somewhere in the distance the changing of the guards sounded, footsteps echoed away from them. He closed his eyes. "Regina, you must have known that making a deal with the Dark One to obtain Henry would never end well."

"And Emma should have known that bearing the Dark One's grandchild would do her no good either. I fail to see why I should be punished because she acted out of propriety for a princess."

The easy smile slid off his face as he stared into her eyes. "Regina, you don't mean that. You don't…You have worked so hard to become a better woman. You aren't that evil queen any longer. You're a brave and strong woman who loves me and my son. We are a family together. Would you truly throw that away to keep Henry from the woman who is his true mother?"

"I would expect that you and Roland would come with us. We can still be that family."

"No, Regina, we won't be aiding you in this. I have no quarrel with the King and Queen, but I will certainly not betray them in this. I am not saying you must abandon Henry. Yet you would be well served to understand that one day in the near future you, Roland, and I are to take a carriage away from here and return home."

"I won't leave him. I won't leave you and Roland, but I won't leave my son."

"I'm not sure that you will have a choice in it."

***AAA***

The ground was uneven and fraught with hidden roots that seemed to impede her path, but Emma was nothing if not determined. As she had seen her father, mother, and even Killian do, she broke off branches and caved into the wood to mark her path. It seemed a bit useless in the infinite forest, but she found it somewhat needed just in case. Her path took her through the thickets of underbrush and back toward the stream, which she thought she might attempt to cross to get back to some sort of more widely traveled road where she might seek out someone who knew the woods better than she did.

At the very least, she hoped that she could find a farm or something else that could provide food that would sustain them. It wasn't running away exactly. That's what she told herself.

Morning birds were chirping in the distance, probably greeting a sun that would not have its way into the underbelly of the forest until later due to the dense foliage. Emma had been on her way for a few hours, stopping only once when she studied a rock that she was almost sure she had passed before. She stared harshly at the root that had tripped her and almost sent her sprawling on the ground. Breathing harshly and trying not to think about the others back at camp. She had left them without a word, no paper or parchment with which to scribble a note of explanation.

"I have to try," she told herself as she realized the path that was dipping down was going to force her to cross the stream. The water was still, algae growing in its depths. Lifting her skirt as best she could, she stepped into the cold water and felt her slippers sink into the muck. She wavered, her right foot far ahead of her left and her right arm out in front and her left in back to steady her. The skirt she had been trying to protect fell, at least four inches of it becoming soiled in the murky water.

"And who pray tell are you?" asked a gruff voice. Emma glanced about furiously, seeing no man around her. "You dress like royalty, but if you are, you are far from any servants and quite a mess."

"Show yourself," she said, not confirming or denying her heritage. "I can't talk to someone I can't see."

"Seems to me that you're doing just that, milady," the voice said again, a little crisper than before and definitely from a different direction. "If you won't tell me your name, at least tell me what you're doing out here all alone. This is no place for a lady."

Emma huffed, wishing she had not left the sword she had used at Maleficent's castle behind at camp. Sure it would have been too heavy to carry and make good time, but now she felt defenseless and vulnerable. "I won't talk to a ghost any longer. Either show yourself or let me pass."

The voice, now to the west of her, chuckled at that. "Not to be contrary, milady, but it appears you are not going anywhere with your feet stuck in the mud like that. But for a price my brothers and I might be able to help you."

"Brothers? There are more than one of you then?"

"An army actually, milady. And we are quite selective in who we help. So let's dispense with all this foolery and see about that price milady. You may be a bit worn and tattered in those rags, but you carry yourself like a lady. And a lady always has money."

"I'm afraid you are mistaken about my inventory," she said, teetering again as she tried to lift her foot. "And you are wrong about my predicament. I have no issue falling if I must. I will cross this creek and be on my way. I expect you will pass, as I am of little consequence to you." She'd been praying silently that she would find people, someone to help her carry supplies if there were any to be had back to her father. While these men, whoever they were, seemed quite capable, she was sure they would not help without negotiated allegiance.

"Oh but you are, milady," the voice toward the east said. "Your bag? Toss it on the grass there in front of you. You won't mind if we confirm your destitute status would you?"

She frowned, her brow furrowing as she considered her option. It was not her bag, but her father's. Inside was a bit of hard tack and a dagger that she could use in a variety of ways. Seeing no other option, as she was not sure if these men were armed, she tossed it and hoped for the bed.

While the man who snatched it up and ran back to the shadows was far from young or spry, he scurried across the forest floor like a woodland creature. She could see that his trousers and tunic had at one time been coal black. They were faded and torn now, repaired so many times that parts were threadbare. His boots were mismatched, maybe even stolen or negotiated off other travelers.

Attempting to drag her left foot closer, she felt her balance teeter again, almost sending her into the water. However, she righted herself and soon looked again to the darkness. "I threw you my satchel, now let me pass."

A different man appeared, his face marred with lines and his hair misshapen from do it yourself hair trimmings. "You lie, Princess. We recognize that as the insignia of the kingdom we served. You are the daughter of Queen Regina?"

Her jaw dropped as she stared at the man, his clothes in just as many tattered ruins as the first. With his solid and still stance she could see the royal insignia of the dark knights on his sleeve. These were the fabled lost troop, the ones still loyal to a queen no longer serving. She wasn't about to explain it to them.

"If you know who I am, you know my mother will be anxious to see me. I am on a mission, men." She lifted her chin a bit higher, hoping against hope they did not see the way she had her mother's eyes and chin or her father's coloring and nose. The man studied her but for a moment and then approached, unfazed by the dirty water he stepped into. Tugging at her arms, he pulled her from her quagmire and to the nearby bank.

"This is an interesting development. Is it not, brothers?"

***AAA***

Belle made her way back to the spacious room that had been selected for her, unable to find anything in the accommodations to complain about. Tall windows were flanked with thick curtains, luxurious fabrics covered the bed that was made of the most ornately carved wood. A crackling fire was already burning at the hearth and a cup of tea waited on her at a small table within reach of it.

With her hands in prayer position, she crossed to the window and stared out at the night, the black sky peppered with stars over the expansive gardens. At her former home with Rumpelstiltskin, she had spent many a night curled up on some seat in his expansive library with her nose in a book and the world seeming to slow its pace to accommodate her. But there was no time for that now. Here she was reading to help solve the mysteries of the infinite forest and to better understand the lore of truth of the Dark One's origins.

"I was wondering when you would return," said a sultry voice, startling her as she sank onto the chair. "I assume you went to plead your lover's case to the Queen?"

"Regina, there is no reason for you to lurk in the shadows," Belle said, not bothering to turn in the direction of the woman. "And Queen Snow summoned me with a bit of personal news. It is not of your concern."

"She is planning to send you back to your kingdom, isn't she?" Regina mused, gliding toward the fireplace at a slow speed. "I suppose that's best for you. You can live out your days as the daughter of a nobleman, comfortable, quiet, and unobtrusive. It won't be the life you imagined of adventure and intrigue, but it will be nice." The woman stressed that final word, smiling lecherously. "Some people will eventually forget that you were with the Dark One for so long. They won't hold it against you."

The beautiful woman lifted her chin a bit higher and reached for the cup of tea that had been left for her. "I don't know why you are here, Regina," she said, stressing the former queen's name. "I think we have both determined that we have nothing more to say to each other. You kidnapped me and left me to rot in a cell. It is only because of Queen Snow and King David's advance upon you and your armies that the tower and dungeons of that dreadful castle were emptied. You never set me free. I was turned loose. Did you even know that? Each of the prisoners you had not already put to death were asked to fight for you or run. I ran. Rumple found me."

The woman appeared unshaken, breathing evenly as she crossed to the fireplace and rested one hand on the mantle. "I suppose you have not considered fully what it means to anyone but yourself that the Dark One is sitting down there in this dungeon. He may be immortal in terms of his body, but his mind…"

"What do you want?"

"I want to make sure that my step daughter and her family do the right thing. Snow is a bit heady with power right now, facing all of this without her dear husband and daughter. She might be influenced into something that doesn't benefit the kingdom."

"And this concerns me in what way? You have already rightly assumed I am returning home soon. Arrangements are to be made to take me from this kingdom. I will not stay to see the results."

"You will give up on true love that easily? I thought you wanted to be a heroine. I thought you had it in you to fight for what you want."

"Regina," the woman said, appearing tired as she reached behind her to unclip the gilded barrette from her long dark curls. Her face, still beautiful, wore a world weary wisdom now and the sparkle was dimmer in her eyes. "At least have the courtesy to tell me what you wish of me. I am learned and well read, but I have no mind reading abilities."

"I want you to help me make a deal with Rumpelstiltskin."


	33. Chapter 33

The wagon load of staff for the kitchen had left that night for the nearby houses and hovels that they called home, tired and weary from the added strain of cooking for the additional guests at the palace. Snow, who tried to be cognizant of such tension, had offered them an increased salary and time off in the future. However, patience was wearing thin and the rumblings of rumors of the King and Princess's fate were growing louder. None of that concerned Regina who watched as a few of them milled about that next morning. While she stayed mostly in the shadows, it was not arrival did not have the former queen pacing and plotting through the possible scenarios in her head.

"I'm sorry, Regina," Elsa said from the poorly lit alcove where she had met up with the former queen in the early morning hours. "It is a much stronger magic than before. We will need Emma to perform that sort of spell."

"We could cut it with the Dark One's dagger," she said, tugging at the leather bounds at her wrist helplessly. "It can cut through any spell."

While Elsa had not questioned her friend's mother on why she had insisted upon locking up the dagger and not removing it yet, she had her suspicions. "I still think that waiting for Emma's return is a smarter idea. I may have control of my inherent magical tendencies, but not so well as to break magical bonds. I could attempt to freeze it. There are dangers in that though."

"I don't wish to be handless in your inept attempts," Regina spat, her brown eyes narrowing in suspicion. "You seem quite loyal to Snow. Isn't that unusual for a queen to pledge allegiance to another queen?"

"I'd think you would know the ins and outs of such situations," Elsa said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "Diplomacy was never your strong suit though was it? You simply razed the villages that did not comply to your whims and dared others to defy you."

"And you have studied my reign so thoroughly in your history books?"

Elsa's thin hand rested at the framed archway, curling against the smooth stone and wood. "I would not be much of a ruler if I ignored the lessons of the past. I would not be a good person if I ignored the trials and challenges of my dearest friend. While you are here now and have shown remorse, I cannot forget that you were once held in regard as an enemy of Snow and her family. Emma grew up with a healthy fear of you. I believe in second chances and redemption, but I also believe in being wary."

"And you have transferred that wariness to me?" Regina's hands were on her hips and her lips thinned as she waited for a response. When one was not immediate, she continued. "I did not come here for redemption. I came here to keep my son safe from the Dark One. Now that the Dark One is imprisoned, I have every intention of vacating and…"

"Taking Emma's son with you?" Elsa asked pointedly. "You see, Regina, that's exactly why I think it is good to be wary. Emma's son was ripped from her and given to you. While you might not have been complicit in the kidnapping, you have benefited."

"I have raised him as my son. If Emma returns, she and I will have to have this conversation."

***AAA***

It was Red who first noted the shifting yet still closed eyes of the King and his mumbled words signaling his awakened state just a bit after dawn. She stumbled from her bed roll with a graceless gallop, falling to his side and staring at his still closed eyes. Perhaps she had imagined it, she thought, wished it so hard that now her eyes were playing tricks on her mind.

"David?"

She got no answer for a moment, making her doubt that the King was going to awaken after all. She sank back down onto her heels and placed her folded hands on his still chest. While hardly an emotional woman, she knew that somewhere out there her dearest friend was aching for a sign that her husband and daughter were well. Snow was probably at her wits end trying to reconcile herself to the idea that they could never return.

"Red?"

The dark haired woman's eyes fluttered as she locked gazes with the man who had been so badly injured. And while she did not fly at him with the enthusiasm of a loved one, she said a silent prayer of thanks and reached for the deerskin canteen that they had kept near him just in case. "You're awake."

"How long have I…"

"Not long, a little more than two days. You were badly injured, but Emma…well, she healed you. It was remarkable really. Her magic was as bright as anything. Just this radiant white light. And while you didn't wake up immediately, it was clear that her efforts worked miracles. She's quite special."

He gave a tired and proud smile turning his head toward where others were sleeping. "Is she…Is she awake? I would like to see my daughter."

"Oh my, yes. She's been up taking her shift at watching for danger. You know she is like you and won't do for special treatment." Rising easily to her feet, Red adjusted the cape about her shoulders and looked toward the burning embers of the fire that had been blazing earlier. "She's just over…"

The spot where Emma should have been was empty, the Princess nowhere to be found. Red threw back her head and sniffed the air before cursing under her breath and stalking away from David toward Killian. She called out his name three times before kicking him with the toe of her boot. "Wake up," she hissed, not bothering to see if David was watching her unraveling. "Wake up?"

"Red? Buggering hell. What has happened?" He blinked at the woman above him, barely able to make out her face with her hair falling forward. It reminded him of a few times back at Granny's tavern and inn when the dark haired beauty had woken him from a stupor to go back to his ship before Granny saw him. "Is it Emma? What's wrong with Emma?"

"Where is she? She's not over there." Red's jaw clenched as she demanded answers. Staggering a step back, she threw an arm in the direction of the spot they had selected as the best for watch. "See. Not there." Her nostrils flared as she breathed in deeply. "Her scent is weakening. She's likely been gone a while."

Killian was to his feet in a second, clutching the long coat that he normally used to cover Emma rather than wore himself. It's presence over him was enough of a clue to tell him that Emma had left on her own, choosing for some ungodly reason to abandon those who loved her. He was about to tell Red that when David spoke out, startling the pirate with his alert state of consciousness.

"Where's my daughter?"

"We're trying to figure that out, mate," Killian snapped, then turned his head violently to stare at the King struggling to sit up. He rushed over to the man's side, offering his arm and one hand in assistance. "I mean, David…your majesty…"

"I think the important thing is finding Emma. Titles and pleasantries can wait. We don't have much time before they come."

"Before who comes?" Killian asked, confused by both David's statement, the man's miraculous recovery and Red's sniffing about in a wolfish way. "Bloody hell, how are you awake?"

"I was able to talk to Snow in my sleep," David explained. "It's…It's complicated, but she will be sending the fairies to find us and light our path out of these woods." He gave a weak cough and glance toward where Red was sniffing out a scent of Emma. "I didn't realize she was missing when we made the plan."

"We? You talked to your wife? Is this some sort of yarn? Your wife is safe at home in your palace…miles from here. You had a dream." Killian's coat billowed out as he turned back to Red, who knelt lower to the ground, craning her neck to inspect something he didn't see.

"She contacted me. I assume with Regina and Elsa's help. It was through a dream state. But I tell you that she is going to use Blue and the other fairies."

Red approached them, her face set in a determined stare at them both. "Fine then," she said, holding a hand up to Killian in an effort to silence his argument against the illogical statements of the King. "We have no time to waste. Hook and I will search out the Princess. I'll wake Graham and have him build a larger fire so that we might see it to guide us back. The rope won't do. We don't have enough of it. With luck I can track her."

"Why don't you take Graham? He's a fine tracker." David moaned a bit as he turned on his side. "I think it might be…"

"Graham is, but Hook is a pirate – a true treasure hunter. He is far better at finding those that mean not to be found. I need Graham to stay here with you in case the fairies arrive before we get back. He can persuade them to wait or at least give us guidance to get us back too. Now," she said, leaning down and adjusting the thin material they had thrown over him as a blanket. "You rest. Snow will skin the fur off me if I let anything more happen to you."

***AAA***

Snow pressed her hand to the pillow on her husband's side of the bed and sighed, the coolness of his absence tangible on the feathered rest. "I miss you," she whispered into the still nearly dark room. She was not unaccustomed to sleeping alone, as she had done so on many of the nights when he went hunting or attended to diplomatic missions that did not need her attention. But combined with the fear of what was happening to him, Emma, and the others, Snow felt herself losing what grip she had on hope.

While she had a good feeling about the plan with the fairies, she worried it might be too late. Her best bird had returned a message still tied to its leg, having never found Emma or David. That bird could find anyone, yet there was no sign of them.

The knock at her door did not even startle her, but she took a moment and brushed her dark hair from her face and stole a deep breath to cleanse and calm. "You may enter," she said, holding her dressing gown closed.

"Milady I hate to disturb, but Henry's mother is not in her room," Johanna said, her bumbling hands and words coinciding. "And the boy's had a terrible fright of a nightmare."

Snow did not correct the governess's assumption of the boy's paternity, though her heart felt heavy at hearing it. "Bring him to me. I will handle it."

"I didn't mean…"

"It is alright, Johanna. Just bring him here. I will soothe him."

Johanna swallowed thickly, giving a glance at the open door and back to Snow before disappearing for a moment. When she returned she guided a young Henry toward the sitting area. "I don't know what it was about, milady. He was crying though."

Tears still fresh on his cheeks, Henry glared at the older woman. "I wasn't. I mustn't cry."

Snow knelt down in front of the boy who was in fact her grandson and smoothed down a bit of his messy brown hair. "It's alright, Henry. Did you know…" She paused, looking toward Johanna's eager expression. "Johanna, if you will see to the other boys, please. Sometimes these things are contagious and with dawn breaking it is likely they will awaken soon."

The round woman blushed and gathered her skirts in one hand. "Of course, milady. Ring when you are ready to have me take him back to the nursery."

Snow did not respond or speak again until the door was shut. "I was going to ask if you knew what I was doing before you arrived this morning?"

Henry shook his head, his mouth opening slightly in question.

"I was crying. I don't find that silly at all. You see, Henry, crying isn't a sign of weakness. It is a sign you feel too much and are too filled with emotions to hold it back. It overflows out of you as tears." She could tell from his scrunched up nose that he did not understand. With a determined breath, she led him over to the settee. "Do you know what emotions are?"

He shook his head, climbing carefully onto her lap and then looking worried she might not appreciate that. His worry was unfounded as she hugged him to her. "No, I don't," he said softly.

"Well, an emotion is a feeling," she explained patiently. "How do you feel when you see your favorite dessert at dinner?"

He pondered his response longer than necessary. "Happy?"

"Yes, that's right. And how do you feel when something scary happens in a book?"

"Afraid?"

"Yes, that's right too. You are a very smart boy. There are lots of emotions. Anger, fear, happiness, sadness, and on and on. I think that sometimes we feel so much that our bodies can't hold it in any longer. So we laugh or we cry. It must escape because there is no room for it all."

"Because we overflow," he repeated proud in this new knowledge. His face tilted upwards with a soft expression. "I had a bad dream. I dreamed that I was all alone and a monster was trying to hurt me."

Snow showed a measured concern for the boy's dream as he spoke about it in greater detail. When he finished his head was at her shoulder and his right hand was gripping the material of her dressing gown tightly. "That does sound scary," she consoled. "But I don't think you should worry about being left alone like that. You have so many people who love you. So many that you might never count them all."

"I'm good at counting."

"Yes, I would guess that you are what with you being a smart boy." She resisted the urge to hold him tight to her for fear she might never let him go. "Do you want to try to go back to bed or would you like to stay with me for a while?"

His face twisted with a concentration at the question. "I'd like very much to stay here. You're very nice. Are you a mama?"

Her hand instinctively brushed down his cowlicked hair, smiling softly. "Yes, Henry. I have a daughter and a son. You know them. They are Leo and Emma."

"You're Leo's mama?" he asked, studying her for either a resemblance or some unknown reason. "I like him. He's a good friend."

***AAA***

"I mean no harm at all," Emma said, the frayed rope tight about her ankles and wrists. "I swear to you that I will…"

"Silence," the tall lanky former black knight said from his spot on a nearby log. "Her majesty will pay a great sum for a treasure such as yourself."

Emma stared at his faded uniform that had been patched not so neatly and sewn together after numerous tears. Shortened ropes and threads held the soles of his shoes onto him in what she realized were mismatched shoes that probably were stolen off bodies of those lost forever in the forest. "When was the last time you saw her?" she asked, her tongue in her cheek as he pondered the question with all seriousness.

"Never you mind that, lass. I am going to get my reward."

Emma breathed heavily, lifting her tied arms up as an example. "Look, you have to realize that time has passed. I'm the daughter of Snow White and Prince James, also known as David. I'm a grown woman now. Do you honestly think there is a good bounty on me?"

"Silence," he repeated. "Her majesty does not give up so easily. If you are who you say, surely she is looking for you as well. We'll take you to her and let her sort it out." His bottom jaw continued to move as if talking or chewing, long thin fingers scratching down his neck. "A good profit, indeed."

From his stubborn glint and his crazed eyes, she could tell that arguing with him was a foolish venture. He was not aware of the over two decades that had passed since Snow was no longer on the run from Regina. Somehow these men had found themselves a way to live within the confines of the infinite forest, finding food and shelter where she feared there was none. Perhaps if she played along, the answer would come to her about how she could help her father, Killian, and the others. But she would have to earn his trust, she reasoned, make him believe that she was willing to submit herself to Regina's punishment.

While there were a half dozen of these former black knights milling about, this one man was the only one talking to her. He seemed to be in charge and more at ease with the role than the others. She remembered only bits and pieces of the vague stories that Graham had spoken of in his own history as such a knight. The men who served in that role were unmarried and often without families to turn to even in their downtime. They were the job, he had told her one afternoon after a training session with her father. Their entire lives revolved around that task and making Regina feel happy and secure.

***AAA***

"She marked her trail," Red told Killian as she stepped into the largest area of clearing she could find and turned her nose up at the wind. "But I am afraid that does little good in this maze."

Looking paler than he had seemed back at the camp and even at the group's lowest moments, Killian touched the bark of the tree and sliced into it with his hook to make a haphazard x mark on the surface. "It's better than nothing," he said, not really arguing any more than admitting his own helplessness in the situation. "I should have suspected. She was so concerned over the waning supplies and her father's state. She's gone to find help."

"You may be close to her, but you can't read her mind," Red challenged back. Sniffing the air as if for confirmation, she pointed along the narrower of the paths in front of them and took off in that direction. "The good news is that she was raised by parents who insisted she learn tracking and other such techniques. While she is pampered as a princess, she's a natural at surviving."

"I pray your evaluation of her is right."

Red's sense of smell helped her stay on Emma's trail, only losing track a few times. But she was quickly able to retrace the steps and find the scent again. Killian followed, both in awe and in hurried steps that seemed at times lumbering under the weight of guilt. He was loathe to admit that though, not wanting to indicate anything resembling weakness to the woman who was kind but still quite judgmental of him. And if they did ever escape from the woods, she had the King and Queen's ear on all things, including their daughter's duty and love life.

Emma had been worried about their supplies, concerned that they would perish from starvation before any of them found a way out. He should have taken that more seriously, he thought as he skimmed over the earth with his boots. There was truly no way he could have ever seen allowing her to disappear into the darkness the way she did. He should have gone in her place, volunteered before she ever even had the thought.

But he hadn't. He'd thought that she would stay at his side. Not that he had any reason to assume that she would. He just thought that she would want to be there with him, fighting the battles together. When he found her, he thought, refusing to say if. When he found her, he wasn't going to say a word about rescuing her. That would surely push her farther away. Instead he would say that he was joining her, fulfilling her wishes and not demeaning her or her abilities.

***AAA***

Belle stared at the packed bags and wondered if there was anything left for her at the home she had made with Rumpelstiltskin. She hadn't asked to return there or even sent some of the staff in search of anything. It felt too much like hanging onto the past and admitting that things were changing. Having not seen her family or her home in years, she was not all that sure that there would be something worth coming back to anyway.

"I do appreciate all that you have done," Snow said as she entered the sitting area where Belle was waiting. "He seems almost calmer when you were near him."

Belle swallowed and ran her hand over her traveling cape draped over a nearby chair. "I know that it is best that I go back to my kingdom and to what is left of my family. It is your wish, your majesty. I would remiss if I did not express my desire to help. As you have just said, I am a calming influence on him. Perhaps I could be of some help to you, beyond the research in the palace studies. I could approach him, demand from him the return of your husband and daughter. If he knows a way, he would tell me. I am sure of it."

Snow knew that the beautiful woman was not one to make bold or audacious statements such as that without reason. She also knew that this was a woman with a broken heart. For as much as her mind might have told her that Dark One was incapable of a loving relationship, the heart hoped for more and often spoke louder than the thoughts in her head. "He said that without enchantments and tools the quest would be quite hopeless. It was while being ordered with the dagger that he said those things. So there is little doubt that he spoke the truth."

"He is quite clever, more than people realize. If there is a way that he can subvert the pull of that dagger in his quest, he will. While I would have hoped that my influence would be stronger, it is truly the Dark One's son that has the most power over him. And Baelfire is apparently lost to him forever."

Snow walked to the window, staring down on the green grounds where guards marched in an effort to protect her and the guests. Her son, grandson, and Roland played among them, ignoring their presence in an elaborate game that sent their legs pumping as they ran. "The loss of a child is a powerful motivator, Belle. I have little doubt of that. And while your offer to approach him is perhaps nothing more than a noble wish to be of assistance, I have fears that it is more."

"You doubt me?" Belle questioned. "I suppose I can understand that."

Far in the village the bells rang from a church, echoing even in the palace. Snow did not face the woman, staring instead into the reflection. "It is not doubt, Belle. It is simply that I am not sure of your loyalty and where it might reside now. When you were brought here it was not of your own free will. I have not slept much since my husband and daughter have been gone. That is reason enough for my lack of sleep. You though…you don't seem to sleep either. The guards have spoken of your walking near the entrance to the dungeon where he is being held. They say you never ask for entry, just simply pace there deep in thought."

"I should think that would be understandable." Belle dropped her eyes, the lavender of her dress soft and beautiful against her pale skin and dark hair. "For as much as you and others have spoke of me going home, it is not my home. My father and the others sent me to the Dark One to protect them all from his machinations. It is not easy to fathom them welcoming me home again."

Snow breathed slowly, her chest rising and falling with the efforts. "It may not ever be as you wish here," she finally conceded. "He's got to be contained. He's probably going to be punished. It will be up to my daughter."

"I know," Belle whispered. "I know. I swear to you that I won't betray you or your trust, your majesty. I only wish to help."

***AAA***

Emma nibbled at the gamey meat and watched as the men drew out useless maps in the dirt with blunt sticks. They reminded her a bit of her brother and even her son playing pretend. She said nothing, grateful for the food even if it was badly cooked. She had no intention of indenturing herself to them, though she knew her mother had done similar with her uncles many years ago. The dwarves had made wonderful guards and friends for her mother, but they weren't half crazed from years in the forest with no sense of time or reality any longer.

Reginald was the most talkative of the men, his eyes just a smidge kinder and his gruffness surely only a display in front of the others. She saw an opportunity with him and exchanged pleasantries when he seemed up for it that morning and early afternoon.

"I know a former black knight," she told him when he offered her some water from a carved out gourd. "Graham."

The tired expression on his face grew harder as he explained that Graham had been in his regiment. "His betrayal should have never been glossed over the way it was." She didn't have to ask which betrayal that was, as she knew he had both rescued her mother and spared his father. The royal couple had been grateful to him ever sense.

"He does not work for Regina any longer," she explained. "He's quite happy in his new role. I know that seems like it is impossible. But if you were to help me…"

"You speak quite familiarly of our Queen," he said, standing back up and wiping his hands down his thin trousers as if wiping away the memory of the conversation. "I would be careful. She does not appreciate that at all."

Emma winced. "Would you at least answer my question? How do you plan to get back to her when it has been years since you have last seen outside this forest? If you know the way, how…" She knew at once that it was the wrong tactic, as he did not argue with her at all. Instead he simply walked away and left her there with her wrists and ankles tied as he joined the others. Without even looking in her direction, he and the others whispered among themselves over their hastily done maps in the dirt.

She knew that her time was growing short. These men would not be so willing to let her live if they gave up hope of their reward. She would be seen as nothing but a hindrance to them. And while they might find a way to use her forcefully before snuffing the life out of her, she knew the end result was the same. Taking her dimmed green eyes off of them, she stared down at the rope that circled her wrists. While frayed, it was still impossibly thick and nothing she would ever find a way to cut through with even the sharpest stone. That meant she would have to find another way, but the choices were not many. Perhaps she could earn the trust of one of the men, hoping that he would loosen the ties. That seemed like it might take too long, leaving Killian, her father, and the others in peril of starvation when she did not return right away with assistance or food. Then there was her magic.

It could not be so different as making things appear and disappear, she thought as she studied the braided strands that bound her. The answer could be as simple as to make the rope simply disappear, leaving her free to run from these men who were older and far weaker than her at that moment. Their one asset was knowing this area of the forest, something she would not make up for in time and agility. She would have to run back the way she came. But what if she simply led them back to camp. Her father would not be there to fight them, but Graham and Killian would be and Red could become the wolf and scare off the rest if she did not eat them first.

She half closed her eyes and stared at the rope with the image of it disappearing behind her eyes. Just as Regina and Elsa had taught her, she breathed in focused all her energy on the task. If the men were to catch a glimpse of her now she would appear to be in contemplation or prayer. However, there was no flash of light and no change in the rope. Sighing, she looked upward and the umbrella of the trees above. It may have been too much, she thought critically. The weight of her magic feeling heavy despite its not working.

Worrying her lips between her teeth, she looked at the rope again, this time concentrating on the knot that was impressive for men on land to have tied. Her thoughts instantly went to Killian and his impressive ability to tie much more fancy knots with his one hand. She had seen him showing her brother, Roland, and Henry the technique. He had been so patient with them that her heart had clenched with the sight of it. Men were typically not that way. At least that is what she had been told. Yet there he had sat in the garden with Leo in front of him and Henry draped on one leg and Roland on the other as he spun yarns of krakens and other beasts their young lives had not crossed except in storybooks.

While he had told her that he loved her, showed her that she was more precious to him than his innate sense of adventure, she wondered if that would extend to her son. Henry would have so many changes if she returned. Though she doubted herself, she knew she could not allow him to be raised by Regina with no knowledge of his mother truly wanting him. Would Captain Hook make for the water in haste with that added burden? Or would he… She smiled, the knot already feeling looser. Killian had told her he had every intention of speaking to her father and mother about properly courting her. And while they had already broken with propriety and rules with stolen kisses and time alone, she knew that he had been careful with her and respectful of her reputation and station.

The thought of his kisses warmed her, making her wish for more and feel loved and cherished at the same time. There was no denying his passionate desire for her, but he tempered that with tender reverence. Her eyes fluttered shut with the memory of his warm lips against hers, coaxing and urging her into his embrace. It was then she felt the glow of her magic like the heat of a fire nearby. The blood returned to her hands as she waved them about before deftly untying the knots around her ankles. She was free.

Once she stood she would surely garner the attention of Regina's most loyal of knights. But she could not sit there forever. Stealing in a deep breath, she stood abruptly and darted for the line of trees behind her. It was the way they had come in and with a bit of luck and magic on her side, she hoped it would lead her to the path she had made before.

***AAA***

Regina flexed and extended her right hand, a motion that until she had been bound by the magic cuffs had resulted in a fire ball. Yes, it might have been just as easy to call for a servant to light the fire in the day room, something that would have been done without hesitation had she been in charge. Her black gown was accented with a deep red, something very akin to what she would have worn back then.

Pulling back the thick curtains, she saw the carriage that had been called forward to carry Belle back to her kingdom. It still remained empty, giving her just the tiniest flicker of hope that the woman might not retreat into the distance. With the dagger securely protected and Snow unwilling to budge on that, she knew that Belle was her best bet in enticing the Dark One to at least tell her how to make sure that Emma never laid claim to Henry. Elsa and even Robin were not going to be very good pawns in her game of chess, leaving her with the Dark One's lover as her only hope for that.

"She's staying on," Robin interrupted. His footsteps had been so quiet that she had not heard him approach. "She's determined to help Snow convince the Dark One to save the ones who are lost."

"The dagger could force him if it was possible." She did not turn, her hand gripping the brocade. "But she's scared of it."

"If he were to somehow get it from her, the results would be disastrous, my darling. He would not only regain his control and powers, but would have even more vengeance to satisfy. No, I believe Queen Snow is being overly cautious and not to her detriment." He lowered his quiver to the table and propped it there before taking a seat. "Surely things will change once the Princess Emma and the others are rescued. I heard the Queen say that she was leaving the Dark One's fate to her daughter, as she was the one who had suffered at his machinations the most as of late."

"I'm not talking about vengeance," Regina said, her hand again curling and releasing as if the result would be different. "I need to protect my son. And so long as the Dark One wants him, he's not safe. Emma is not the true enemy here."

His eyebrow shot up. "Are you sure you feel that way, as I recall it wasn't that clear last night. You seemed to think that Emma is somehow crossing a line if she should want a relationship with her own flesh and blood. Is it that way?"

"We may never know," Regina said, allowing herself the brief luxury of glaring in his direction. He looked taken aback by her. "I only mean that it is a tall order to believe they are to ever be seen again."

He rubbed at his chin, studying her closely. "It is hard to trust the fairies, but the Queen is quite hopeful about it. Though I do get the sense that is a natural state with her."

"Quite annoying, actually. I think the intention is good, but the execution might need some work." She twisted the material and then let it go. "I don't intend to lose my son. If having my magic returned is not in the cards, I will simply take him away and make a new life for us. Before she was the woman I knew, my mother was a poor miller's daughter. Don't think I couldn't blend in with the peasantry."

***AAA***

Emma stumbled through the thick brush, too focused to turn back and see if anyone was chasing her. Dodging impediments to her path and the guards who might be on her trail, she struggled to breath and was thankful that both she and Red had dislodged their corsets earlier in their travels to be used in the harnesses. Having her ribs able to breathe in and out was so much easier.

There was another of the small clearings ahead, perhaps the same that she had passed at least twice but she wasn't sure. While the clearings offered no protection or privacy, she longed to feel sunlight on her skin. She would only be a moment, she told herself, gathering the torn skirt and stepping over a dislodged rock.

"Emma!" Red said with a vehement tone. "It's you!" Before Emma could even recognize that she had been both spotted and rescued in a way, she was swept up into a hug by her mother's dearest friend. Red grabbed both of Emma's forearms as she pulled away, inspecting her eagerly. "You're well, aren't you? Not hurt?" She tilted her head back and sniffed. "I don't smell blood."

"I'm well," Emma managed to say before being pulled into another hug. "And father? Killian? Graham?"

"Your father is awake," Red enthused, still holding onto her. "He woke not long after you snuck away. Whatever made you do that? You could have been lost. We still could be. Your father said the fairies are coming to lead us home."

Emma tried her best to process that information, unsure about it all and what the fairies had to with anything. She simply bobbed her head as Red sniffed the air again, turning and peering into the dark woods. "Killian?"

A slow smile spread on the woman's face. "He's fine. Worried about you, I daresay. It's quite a sight. Once he knew you had left, he's been nearly impossible. Searching every corner for you. We saw a flash of light earlier and he took off in that direction. We assumed it to be your magic."

"There was no way to leave word," Emma said, pulling her arms out of Red's grip. "I wanted to find help. All I found was…"

Red threw a hand up, tilting her head in the direction of the path and closed her eyes. While Red was known for having her wolf like olfactory sense, her hearing was also quite sensitive. Her lips parted slightly and her eyes scanned the dark recesses of the treeline. "There," she said, gathering her own torn skirts into her hands and darting in the direction she had pointed. "I hear something. It sounds like…" The lines of her forehead deepened, though she moved so fast that Emma could not make out that detail as she struggled to keep up. "Swords. That's a sword."

They saw Killian with one of the black knights while still under the cover of the trees, his long arms and legs spread graciously as he thrust the sword at the clearly out of practice knight. He made no overt threat, but only demanded to know where Emma was at that moment. There was no answer and Killian pushed the sword toward the man again. "Where is she?"

Emma could not help but stare at Killian both in awe of his finesse and skill and in fear that he would be hurt. She took a step forward as if to reveal herself and end the fight, but Red pulled her back. "Do they know you're here?" she hissed.

"I got away from them," she said softly, realizing the dilemma. "They worked for Regina and have been lost in this forest since before her reign ended. They want to return me to her for a reward."

Red nodded knowingly, still gripping her goddaughter's arm. "I'm going to sneak over to the other side and make a noise," she said. Perhaps it will distract the knight and let us escape with the Captain."

Before she could go, Emma shook her head quickly. "No, the knight is not alone. There are others nearby. We can't be seen. We need to get Killian's attention and then run."

Fidgeting with the familiar red cloak, Red stared skyward with the realization that the moon had hours to go before it would rise. It was not wolf's time, which left her helpless in a way. Her sight shifted around them, looking for any solution among the damp ground and foliage. "There must be something," she said softly.

Emma paid her no mind, her own green eyes locked on a medium size rock about the size of her hand. It lay just a few feet from where Killian and the knight were dueling. With every ounce of her concentration, she made her mind lift the rock until it was about shoulder high. She hoped that none of the hidden knights could see it floating in the air. Then with an almost imperceptible flick of her wrist, she sent the rock flying out as if thrown by an invisible hand. The knight stopped in his tracks, sword still raised high in preparation for attack. Without losing a moment, Killian surged forward and knocked the weapon from his foe's hands and held back a groan as the knight ran toward where he assumed the rock was thrown.

"Men, she's over there," the knight called out a few points of blood already showing through from where Killian had gotten in more than three good attacks. From behind the other trees the shabbily dressed army retreated in search of what they assumed to be their meal ticket. Killian took two steps after them and stopped short as he heard her quiet but steady voice call to him.

"You were trying to save me?" she asked, holding up a fern branch and appearing to him like someone in a dream.

"Aye, but you denied me the honor and the privilege, milady," he said, sheathing his sword and hurrying to her. "You see I saw that flash of magic and thought you to be in trouble."

"I was, but I was able to escape," she said, cupping both sides of his face in her hands. "My father's truly awake? And the fairies are coming?"

"So he says, but it might just be a dream. So might this, Emma. I thought…I thought I might never see you again." He flinched as she pressed her chest against his, unable to mask the pain of the one good shot the knight had managed to land. "Easy there, my love."

"Should I try to heal you?" she asked almost coyly. "Apparently I am better at it than I first thought." She did not wait for an answer, crashing her lips against his in a way that was most inappropriate.

Red stepped toward them with a half amused and half belligerent sort of smile on her face. "That's all well, but let's get out of this area before those men return. And let us get back to camp before those fairies arrive. As much as your mother may miss your father, I think she would be disappointed to see that you were still stuck here. And I don't know how Granny would feel about having to replace me in the tavern with Graham."

Killian swept his handless arm toward the path and gave a short bow. "Lead the way, Lady Red. We won't be far behind you. After all, we don't want to get stuck out here with you after dark. At least I don't."


	34. Chapter 34

The sun was setting behind the thick wall of trees where Graham and David were waiting, the King having insisted on testing his mobility with the knowledge of the fairies imminent arrival. His walking was labored and his steps heavy as he walked to first stoke the fire and then to check the map that Killian had been drawing in the damp earth the hopes of breaking the code of the forest trails.

"Shall I put on some water to boil? I believe there is a bit more of the tea." Graham dug his long arm into the saddle bag. "I still have a few of the berries and roots too. We could…"

"No need right now," David interrupted, lowering himself slowly back to the ground and holding his leg out stiffly and awkwardly. "If the fates are kind to us Emma and the others will be back soon and the fairies will arrive after that. I can't see it going wrong now, even if we are speaking of a werewolf, a pirate, and a magic wielding princess."

Graham knew that his employer meant that as a joke and chuckled as expected, digging his heels into the ground as he bent his knees. "Red won't let anything happen to them. She's quite protective of your daughter. And I am sure you have noticed the pirate's devotion to her."

"It is hard to miss."

"And she is not shy about reciprocating," Graham continued, his eyes staring downward as if he did not wish to see David's reaction. "I don't mean to make it sound inappropriate, only that she was quite worried about you and would have not been as strong as she was had he not been there for her."

"Is this where you tell me the tale of how I should be glad for her finding love and ignore my dislike of men like him? Or where you tell me that my reluctance to accept him will only push her away?" He coughed, rubbing his ribs instinctively. "Because I assure you that I am aware. I am also aware that my wife loved a shepherd only pretending to be royal. We don't always have control over such things."

"No, I would daresay the more we try to control it the less likely we are to do so. That's what Red says anyway. She said that the more she attempts to prevent herself from becoming the wolf the harder it is to transition back to human form. Do you suppose that's true?" Graham nearly groaned as he felt the heated stare of his employer and king. "Gods but I sound like a boy with his first lass. I only meant we have had the opportunity to talk. She's quite an interesting woman."

"I've always thought so," David chuckled softly. "And yes, she does have a point. We can be our own worst enemies in that regard. I know with Snow that I never wished to love her, nor her me. I had other obligations and she was on the run from Regina. It is madness to think that we could love one another in the midst of all that." He smiled at the memory, remembering that long and anguished run through those very woods in search of her. He'd felt as though his heart might break to never see her again.

"Love seems to not understand timing or propriety."

"No, I would say it doesn't." His eyes were half closed as he considered that. "Are we still discussing you and Red?"

"I only meant to point out that perhaps the pirate never wished to fall in love with your daughter, but as you know we have very little say in such matters. I have watched him, your majesty. He would give up all he is for her. And while that is noble, I think you and I both know she would never allow it. If it were not for her boy, she might take to the seas with him at least for a while." Gathering his strength, he lifted his chin and met David's tired gaze. "And I think that must scare her as much as it scares you."

"I only wish for her happiness. When you came to me and told me that Snow was still alive, I was never more relieved in my life. And when you fetched me when Snow and I were to be wed and told me of Regina's plans, I listened because I knew you would push me in the right direction. I have trusted you with my wife, my children, and my own life. And if you trust the pirate, then perhaps I should too."

***AAA***

"Are we truly doing this?" Regina asked as Snow lit the tapered candle herself. "I don't mean to be pessimistic, but perhaps a bit of caution should be exercised."

"All we have at this point is hope, Regina," Snow answered back, returning to what would normally be a servant's duty. She had dismissed some of them for rest, stating she was capable and needed the distraction. "The people love my husband and adore Emma. There have been prayers going up daily for their safe return. If I don't believe they are returning then no one will."

Regina touched the edge of the wooden table with delicate fingers. "Snow, I know that you are always the last to lose hope. I simply think that perhaps planning some large banquet to welcome them home is premature. Allow your plan to work. If and when they return, then we can plan a gala in their honor. It will be more meaningful that way."

Snow placed one of the vases next to the candles and ran her fingers up the stems of the flowers there to arrange them artfully. "I appreciate the counsel, Regina, but I wish to celebrate. And this moment is far from a large, public celebration. It will be a family gathering to best map out the next course of action."

Smirking ruefully, Regina turned toward the curtained off area and took a single step in that direction. "It is your choice of course. I only hope this celebration is complete with all its guests. And I hope that you have reconsidered my request regarding the dagger."

"Regina, I don't feel that today is the day to be discussing the dagger or the Dark One. We need to concentrate all our good thoughts and prayers on the return of my husband, daughter, and the others. I certainly will not make a hasty decision that could endanger us. The dagger will remain secure for now. It is not a statement against you, Regina. It is simply the safest measure."

Inhaling sharply, the woman's eyes narrowed as she looked at her former step-daughter. "I think the safest measure would be to have someone trained by the Dark One with full use of her powers. Did I not prove that I could be trusted in all this? What more must I do?"

Snow's face softened, her mouth turning down as she spoke. "Regina, I am sure that your frustration is growing. I know it may not seem fair, but I won't risk what happened in the past happening again. Your mother helped him escape, but David and I made it possible to happen. We thought that contract he signed and the deal he made with Ella was enough to trap him. No amount of rocks and squid ink could control him. He escaped by her hand. I won't risk that again, not now when we have the dagger and can stop him from ever hurting anyone again. You said yourself that he would have killed Henry if he had felt it would have been necessary to his end goal. How can you risk Henry's life just so that you can get your magic back a little earlier?"

The color drained from the former queen's features as she stared defiantly at Snow. "Don't you dare bring Henry into this. I came to you for help. I came begging. And the result is a disaster. If I had my magic, I might very well be able to help you fight for your family. But you have left me impotent to ward of danger. So if your daughter and husband don't return, their deaths are at your feet. Their blood is on your hands." Her skirts, sleeker and less full than most women of the village or the palace wore, snapped with the force of her turn. "I will be in my suite."

Snow did not call after her, did not follow. It was only after the footsteps, fast and furious, disappeared and ceased to echo that she sank into the armed chair at the table head where her husband usually sat. "Please," she whispered to no one in particular. "Please let them be well and home to me soon."

A full hour later Elsa was the one who found Snow staring out the window on the west side of the palace, her chin resting in her hand and her eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of the sun's disappearance for the night. She knew that she could not fully understand the woman's anguish, as she was not a mother or a wife. Still she empathized for her and found herself wishing to speak to her sister and to Emma so desperately that she felt quite alone.

"Perhaps a bit of the soup would warm you," she said as she entered and bowed her head in ceremony. "I could order you some while we wait for a sign from the fairies."

Snow did not deviate from her position, but let her shoulders sag slightly. "Before I married him, David and I spent quite a bit of time apart. Circumstances and others conspired against us to the point that we were always searching for one another."

"Emma has said it was quite a tale." Elsa moved her chair closer to the window and peered out into the still bright landscape. "You remind me of my parents in that way. They were always spinning yarns about this adventure and that. But none of their trials seem as great as what you and your husband seem to have endured. Your love must be quite strong to endure where others would have given up."

"All love comes with trials, but sometimes you do wonder about the purpose. I thought we were foolish sometimes. What sort of life could it be if we were to spend it always apart and longing for the other? David persisted though, fought for us when even I lost hope. And then came the glorious news of Emma's impending arrival. We both decided then and there that we would never be apart again. We would be parents to our beautiful child. Two loving parents, something neither of us had for very long as children."

Not masking the sadness of thinking of her own parents' short life, Elsa wiped at a tear. "Emma is lucky to have you both."

Snow turned her head, looking upon her daughter's friend and her equal. "Your parents loved you very much. I know they would be so proud of the queen and woman you have become."

"I hope so," Elsa answered. "You and your family have been very kind to me, making me and making Anna a part of your home too. I only hope that when they return we can all be happy once again."

"Perhaps, but it will be different. Each time we fight these battles, a bit of the innocence is gone from our lives." Snow's voice was wistful and soft.

"Maybe this will be the last time." Elsa knew her friend deserved happiness beyond measure. Perhaps it was possible that the peace they had known would return.

"We thought we won when Regina was defeated and bound from magic. The Dark One was quiet. Everything seemed right in our kingdom. We let ourselves become complacent. Because even if this works and they return, it is not the same as it was. There is Henry to consider. And Emma will be the one to decide the fate of the Dark One. While that is a responsibility I loathe for her to have, I feel it is something she must do. She is the one who had her son taken from her. He almost killed her and Henry. It's her decision."

***AAA***

There was no sight so beautiful to Red as seeing Emma and David reunited as they crested the hill at camp just before the sunset. Emma, who had been tired from all the walking and her run in with the black knights, had ignored the pain in her muscles and ran the last 100 or so yards to her father. Throwing herself into his arms, she half sobbed and half laughed as his hand reached up to cradle the back of her head.

"I do hope he is right about the fairies," Killian said softly as Graham joined them and welcomed them back to camp. "I don't know how much longer…"

"Hush," Red told him, hiking her skirts to step over the log they had been using for seating during watches. "This is a happy moment. Don't ruin it with worry."

Her dark hair was tangled and there were brambles stuck to the fabric of her dress and cape. But Graham looked at her as he had the night of the ball, his jaw slack and eyes wide as he took it all in. If she noticed, she perfected her ignorance to his attention and set about redistributing their meager belongings.

"Perhaps a moment of privacy for them," Graham remarked, leading Killian away to where he had ground tied the horses that looked as weak as the humans in the that moment.

Emma's tired legs carried her to her father, throwing herself at him. It was much like she had done as a child and he returned from a long hunt or a few days of diplomatic missions. She clung to him, feeling every bit that small girl who had fallen asleep on his lap as his advisors spoke to him in hushed tones. "Papa, you're well." Emma was not even aware of their observations or departures. "I didn't want to lose you, Papa. Please promise me that you are well."

"More than, Emma. I am more than well to be here with you and see your face and hear your voice." He craned his neck, looking down at his daughter who seemed more like the child he had spoiled than the independent young mother and princess she was now. "I would never forgive myself if something happened to you."

"I tried to heal you, tried so hard. But you didn't wake…"

His chuckle rumbled in his chest and against her cheek. "I am not hurt, Emma. I'm simply older now than I used to be. I needed the rest after days of walking and climbing. I am sorry to have worried you."

She nuzzled into his chest, appreciating the warmth. "I suppose I should get used to worry. Mother says she has not stopped worrying since I was born."

"Perhaps she has a point. It is instinctual to worry when you are a parent." His fingers dug into the tattered material at her shoulder. The seam was split and the skin under it marred with scratches from the branches on her journey. "I will forever worry about you. Even when you are old and gray."

She knew she should pull back from him, be strong so that he would not see the pain in her eyes. But she didn't. She curled her legs under her skirts and kept her head on his chest, ear above his heart. "I will be that way with Henry?"

"I suppose so. You will learn to be a good mother. Your mother and Johanna will help you, my darling girl. As will I. And if I am reading the situation right, that pirate of yours intends to be around too. He will undoubtedly win that boy over with his tales of the sea. What child would not like that?"

The material of his shirt was just as battered as her own and now damp from her tears. "You won't mind Killian being around?"

"That is the other plight of being a parent. We must accept that which once seemed impossible," he said, stroking her long tresses that had unwound during the journey back to camp. "Why did you leave?"

She attempted to explain, throwing herself at his mercy for doubting that they were stronger as a group. His rebuke was not harsh, but he reminded her of her importance to him, her mother, and the kingdom. "Emma, you should not feel as though you owe me or anyone here for coming to find you. There is no doubt that any of us would have done so alone and would do so again."

Her forehead rested against his shoulder as she tried to listen with an open mind. Blaming herself would do no good, he said to her, explaining that it simply took away from the complexity of the situation at hand. Rumpelstiltskin had controlled and manipulated the situation for far too long. While her magic was powerful, evidenced by his recovery, the Dark One had been perfecting his for centuries.

"We were unfair to expect you to defeat him," the King said, soothingly patting his daughter's back. "But from what I know from your mother, he is confined and we are once again safe."

"Blue and the others will be coming to guide us home?" she asked, daring not to hope too much that it could be true. In some of her quiet hours she had called to Blue fruitlessly, beckoning the fairy until there was not a thread of belief in her. "Tonight?"

"At nightfall I presume," he told her. "Your mother spoke to me while I was asleep. It was our best option. The fairies have the dust protect us as we travel and the light to guide us."

"You sound like her now," Emma mused, her body relaxing a bit. "So full of hope. I wish that I was…" She pulled back, her eyes grazing over where he had been hurt. The angry red was gone and replaced by his normal complexion.

"It comes to parents after a while, though I remember your mother had it long before you were born. She always believed we would somehow take the kingdom back. So if she believes we can deal with the Dark One, I have no doubt we will." He followed her gaze to where Killian was attempting to use his hook like flint to start another fire. "It is easier to believe in those we love. I think that you may understand that more now."

She blushed at his attention to the matter. "He says he loves me."

"And you love him." There was a slight resignation evident in her father's tone. He'd aged over the few days, lines deeper and hair lighter. Or maybe it was just the dim light of a waning day. "It's alright, Emma. I know. It happens when we aren't fully wanting or expecting it. And while I can't say as I ever thought…"

She pulled her knees in close and wrapped her arms around them, looking quite young. "He says he intends to ask your permission to court me properly, but Papa, I'm not sure that…Henry's there at the palace. He will be so confused by this all."

"Don't confuse obligation with excuses. Henry will be just fine. He will get to know you and you him. And I do think that this pirate of yours will be just fine with that." His chuckled mixed with a groan as he clutched at his side. "The Captain doesn't seem to be bothered by your status as a mother."

"And Regina?"

"She will come to terms with it. It is your choice, Emma. Henry's your son, but he's no possession. That is a lesson you will learn as a mother. Henry is a little boy, a real person. His needs and wants are just as important if not more as your own. While Regina is complicit though not fully aware in all that transpired to keep him from you, she's the only mother he has known. I cannot see you forbidding her from seeing him."

"I wouldn't want that," Emma said softly, trying to imagine the pain that he would feel at the separation. "But I cannot ignore that he is my son."

"No one is asking you to do so." Her father shifted in is seated stance. "I think I might need a bit more rest. Why don't you go check on that pirate and see if he could use an extra hand with the fire?" He chuckled at her expression when hearing his comment. "You know what I meant. Go talk to him. I doubt that he and Graham have that much to discuss."

"You only just saw me again and now you are wishing me away?"

David craned his neck back and yawned silently. "I think he may need you more. Though I would not tell him this, I think he might be a little afraid of talking to me about his intentions. Don't fret though. I will not make the captain suffer too much."

"I…"

"At the very least invite him over here so that he does not feel as though I am keeping you away."

***AAA***

Regina stared at the locked door, her hand hovering and then back from the round pull. She repeated the motion several times. And while she might not be able to throw balls of fire or send useless people to their deaths, she did still wear the anger of her former self when two of the servants from Snow's quarters asked her if they might help.

"You're scaring people, Regina," Robin said warningly as he approached. "The palace is abuzz that you are threatening the lot of them if you do not get what you want."

"They should be too busy with preparations for this homecoming rather than idly gossiping about me." Her fingers curled around the pull, but she did not yank it back. "I am not dangerous to them."

"Perhaps not, but you are hovering around the only entrance to the dungeon where the Dark One is residing. And rumor has it that you have made mention of memory potions that would ensure Henry does not every recognize Emma. It is not beyond imagination that there may be something afoot." He took a step closer to her, gently running his hand along her extended arm, drawing her hand into his. "You can't do this, Regina. You can't expect him to make a deal with you."

She swallowed, still not meeting his eyes. "I will do anything to protect Henry."

"This isn't about protecting Henry. It's about keeping him. It's about making him a pawn in this game of yours." He pulled her hand toward his chest, trapping it there against his heart. "I know that trust is hard for you, as is waiting. You feel out of control. You feel as though you have no say in your fate. But Regina, that is the height immaturity. Let's wait and s…"

"Let's wait and see?" She scoffed, yanking her hand back. "You couldn't possibly understand. Henry may not be my flesh and blood, but he's still my son."

"And you think I don't see that. I'm not going to argue the virtues of Emma to you. I'm simply asserting my authority in this situation. If you open that door and make a deal with a man who may as well be Lucifer himself, I am done with you. Roland and I will travel home alone. And for that matter it will only be after I do everything in my power to ensure Henry's safe return to the Princess Emma. She is not even here yet, but you are already fighting her for this boy. Give the woman a chance. She may have a solution."

"I wish I could trust that."

***AAA***

The sky seemed to have darkened, but Killian wasn't yet sure if he was seeing any signs of fairies. His efforts to busy himself as Emma spoke as privately as she could to her father were seemingly just for show once the fire was reestablished and burning brightly. Graham had attempted to converse with him, offering bits of advice. But Killian heard very little as he tried not to intrude on the father daughter moment.

"You seem deep in thought, Captain," Emma said, sinking down beside him and boldly closing the gap that should have been required of them. "Might I be a part of them?"

"Always," he answered with a sly smile of his own. "Your father is well enough to travel?" He shot a quick glance in the King's direction with the hopes that he was not being judged or skewered with the royal's eyes. He was not, giving the pirate the boldness to allow Emma that seat with him without too much worry.

"I think that he is, but it is hard to know for sure. Perhaps the fairies will somehow help us with the transport." Curling her arm around and through his, she laid her head on his shoulder. "I can't believe we are discussing the idea of fairies taking us back. It makes my father seem mad."

"Quite mad," Killian agreed. "But there is always room for hope in situations like these. I know that I have often relied on little more than hope, my wits, and my cunning."

She threw her head back with a delicate laugh. "You have hope?"

"Aye. It is often the only thing between us and true madness. And while I might be quite a scoundrel and scourge, I am still a man. I have hope that things will happen as I would like though it is not always in my design. I had hopes that you would see me as more than a pirate and you do."

"Just as you see me as more than a princess."

"How could I not? So now I have hope that we will return to the palace so that you might truly know your son and so that your mother will have her husband and daughter." His cheek rubbed against the crown of her head. "And in that time I have hope that you will still wish to have me about."

"Of course," she said quickly and solemnly. "I don't wish to trap you, but I would miss you terribly if you were not there. It will take some getting used to from us both? Perhaps we might find a solution. I still wish to travel with you. There is much to see."

"I will gladly show you anything you wish," he remarked. "You have not fully told me. Though I suppose that is your right. What did the Dark One show you of Baelfire's location? Will we be headed there to see after him?" His voice seemed tight as if he might not want to know the answer.

She shook her head, the tumble of her hair cascading down from a hastily plaited braid. "It was a strange looking realm where there was very little that I understood. But he appeared happy and safe. I don't know that I would want to disturb that even if I could. The Dark One said there is no magic there, but there seemed to be wondrous things I can't explain."

"And your son?" The slight breeze lifted his hair from his forehead and made him blink against it.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "I have never considered the possibilities of that. But I know that he is safe there in that realm. He always spoke of it. That is where he wished to be – away from all of this and his father. I don't know that my news would be received well even if I did know how to get that to him."

"It is not my place, but I think that we should concentrate on getting you back to your son. We can make decisions and plans about contacting the lad's father when we know more. It is not that I don't wish for Henry to fully know both his parents, I simply don't trust that the Dark One has given all the information. What if opening a portal to this strange realm were to cause some cataclysmic shift of things. No, we should consult with what we know and can find if that is your wish."

Her mouth opened to tell him that she did think that the wisest course of action, but she quickly shut it as a humming glow appeared just over the tree line. He slid his hand into hers and pulled her up to standing with him, as amazed as she was by the sight of what appeared to be more than 100 fairies flittering about overhead.

"How beautiful," she said in a whisper, squeezing her palm against his. "We're going home."

She noted the strange expression on his face that melted into a smile. "Aye, love. We are."

It took almost no time for Blue to assess the situation and decide to carry them back with magic rather than a more laborious trek through the woods and back toward the center of the kingdom where the palace sat. In a flash of light the five were there one moment and then in the foyer of the palace, hands and arms linked. If their sudden appearance was a shock to anyone, it was not expressed as the flurry of activity that surrounded them was that of warm hugs and claps on the back to welcome them.

Snow was in her element as she transferred her husband's arm to her own shoulders and began to call for Doc to see to him. She did so with the assurance to Emma that he was fine and well. "You were so skilled at healing him, but I still must make a fuss. Otherwise he won't know that I care."

"I missed you," Emma answered simply, placing a kiss on the apple of both her parents' cheeks before heading in the direction of the stairs. Elsa was only a step or two behind her, along with one of the servants who was carrying a bundle of towels, homemade soaps, store bought soaps, and even scrubbing brushes.

"I know you are anxious to see Henry," Elsa called after her as the ascended the grand staircase, "but you must see to a bath first. No need in scaring the poor boy."

***AAA***

Wrapping her arms around herself, Emma stared from the window of her parents' study at the night sky that had not yet given way to morning. The blackness was peppered with silvery stars that winked back at her as if in on a secret confidence that she had shared while pondering their beauty.

Their journey back to the palace had been swift with the aid of the hundreds of fairies illuminating the path that would have been impossible to follow otherwise. She had clung to Killian's arm as the magical beings lifted them to make the travels swifter and less dangerous for the companions. While her father had closed his eyes and wished it to be over soon, Killian and marveled and thrilled in the adventure and spoken of his own ship's magical properties.

While she did not miss the cold, damp earth of the forest, she did miss his solid warmth next to her and the way that he would hold her next to him and make room for her head upon his shoulder. For all the talk of his need to properly court her due to her station, she had found herself appreciating the subtle intimacy of those moments that were disguised and comfortable necessity instead. Yet it made her wonder if Red's stories of his popularity and prowess with women at the seaside town where they had met were true or simply myths to go along with his ruthless reputation.

"He will come to love you," Snow had said before retiring to her own chambers with David waiting. Emma had not given nearly as much thought to Henry's reaction to her as she might have wished, her mind worrying over her father's health, Rumpelstiltskin's fate, and Killian's devotion. So she dedicated a few moments to it as she heard the staff setting up for what was being called a private family breakfast that would include Henry and Leopold. Henry was a delightful child from her memories of him, but that had been when he was a distant relative and playmate of her brother. She was not fully sure how it would all work.

David had been more stoic in his own comments, simply stating that she had their full support and love no matter what her decisions. As her mother had stated, she would be responsible for dispensing justice to the Dark One, a feat she did not relish attempting.

Turning back toward the shelves and desks that her parents used for their personal correspondence, Emma waded through the oversized furniture back to the door. It would not be appropriate to awaken anyone at such an hour, but she did not wish to be alone with either her thoughts or fears any longer.

Her silent stroll through the halls revealed that Elsa was still awake and making lists of her items to be packed for the journey back to her own kingdom. Emma knocked quietly and stole into the suite without the knowledge of more than the guards posted there.

"I am glad you are home, Emma," her friend said, pulling her in for a hug. "I would not have been able to leave knowing you were still lost to that awful maze."

She did not express her own guilt ridden feelings about the predicament nor her fears that she had put others in danger because she had sought a way to cooperatively destroy the Dark One. So instead she focused her attentions on her friend's impending departure.

"I will miss you. I always do."

"And I you," Elsa assured her, linking her arm through the other blonde's and leading her over to the settee. "I do wish you could come to visit more often. Anna is so busy with her married life these days that I feel quite alone sometimes. Perhaps you and Henry should consider a holiday with me?"

"That might be in order given all the turmoil of late. I don't know how we would manage it, but it is a lovely idea."

Elsa had a desire for the chilliness of rooms and left her fireplace dark and without the flames that licked upwards in other parts of the palace. The window next to them was open and the scent of the trees trickled in with the slight breeze. While Emma shivered, Elsa seemed comfortable but not unseeing. Passing her a sheepskin blanket, she smiled. "I am sure the Captain would gladly manage your voyage. He does not seem to want to be apart from you for very long."

There was a question in Elsa's observation that Emma pretended she didn't recognize, one that she had wondered about herself when it came to Killian. He had made his interest in her known through words as well as affections. And while she reciprocated and appreciated his attentions, she was not sure if he fully grasped the gravity of her role as a mother. How could he? She barely did.

"My father may object to that sort of thing," Emma noted, her hands folding on top of the blanket. "Though I wouldn't mind it at all."

A momentary look of disappointment crossed over Elsa's face as she studied Emma carefully. "I don't think your father would be all that surprised. If I overheard correctly, Captain Jones is planning to speak to your parents after breakfast about you. Should I assume he has plans for your courtship?" Emma's expression was both embarrassed and frustrated at the same time. "Emma, please. You are like a sister to me. If I am to gain him as a new brother, I should be among the first to know."

Sighing with resignation, Emma held hand over her mouth for a moment. "He said he wishes to court me until a more proper time for us to be together."

"And you think your parents will allow it?" Elsa prodded, not yet smiling or giving any hint as to her happiness for Emma.

"He said he doesn't wish to ask for permission, merely acceptance. I am a woman and a mother, not simple or without abilities to make up my own mind about a suitor or more." Emma blushed slightly as she considered the implications of that. "Do you think that…Do you think that the kingdom would accept him?"

"You are worried?"

Emma had previously braided her damp hair after her bath, the thick rope of hair fashioned over the shoulder of her pale green gown. By morning it would produce a mass of curls and waves that would cascade down her back. "Only that he might find it tedious and not worth his time or energy."

"I get the feeling that he would find anything worth the time if it meant more time with you."

"Perhaps," Emma agreed, staring at her friend's wordless support through a smile. "I would hope that he would."

***AAA***

That morning the breakfast with family and close confidants had served multiple purposes. In addition to being a celebration of sorts, it had provided an opportunity to reacquaint and even brief moments to consider Rumpelstiltskin's fate. Emma carefully considered her role in that decision as she sat with Killian across from her parents with an unhidden hand upon his injured arm.

"The decision does not have to be made in this moment," Snow assured her, hiding none of her smiles at her family being reunited again. "There are more pressing matters."

Emma did not have time to ask what those might be as Johanna ushered both Leopold and Henry into the room before curtseying and retreating. And while she knew that Henry was unaware of his lineage and her connection, she did feel a pang as her brother warmly welcomed her with a brief hug before running to his father.

"Henry," she said, as her eyes misted and then cleared, "I was hoping you might sit here with me."

The boy's face showed he was slightly confused at the invitation, but the heaping piles of food won out over questions. He climbed into the chair easily and comfortably once he realized that his new friend Leo would be across from him.

Emma's breath caught as the boy's face turned upward and he thanked her for saving him a seat at the table. He answered her questions about what foods he liked and entertained her with stories of his recent experiences in the stables and playing with Roland and Leopold.

"Where is Roland?" Emma asked, her eyes reluctant to leave Henry.

"Robin felt it better to keep this gathering small," David explained, gesturing to the table that included the royal family, Elsa, Graham, Killian, Red, and Granny. Regina and Belle had both declined invitations but for different reasons. "He is worried about her reaction to seeing things this morning."

Emma inhaled sharply and then thanked the servant who poured both her and her son more juice that had been freshly squeezed for the occasion. "I suppose I understand."

Ever observant, it was Killian who noticed the wooden sword that had been tied to Henry's side, a toy he had carried for days. "That looks like quite the weapon, lad. Have you slain anything with it yet?"

Everyone seemed grateful for the distraction as Henry and Leo launched into tales of their imaginary adventures and perilous fights against dark and evil. They were so entertaining that Emma nearly forgot herself in appreciation of their storytelling, especially Henry who had no limits to his creativity. Even at his young age he had a strong sense of audience and seemed to know how to string them along. She was so enthralled that she did not notice the others leaving one by one until she looked up to see her mother ushering Leo off for his daily lessons and Graham assisting her father back to his chambers for a rest. Only Killian remained seated beside her and that mostly due to her grip on his arm that made escape impossible.

"I should leave," he said once when Henry was thinking of just what color the dragon should be in his tale. Emma shook her head. "Give the two of you a moment."

"Stay? Please?" She looked almost fearful as she stared at him through her glistening eyes. "I…"

He nodded his consent and smiled helpfully at the boy beside her. "So lad, tell me. You've seem to know a lot about a dragon, but have you ever fought a kraken?"

Henry repeated the word, unsure of its meaning. In the process of his story telling, he had moved closer to Emma, his short legs swinging on the bench and his hands sometimes playing with the lace edge of her sleeve. When he realized his imposition on her, he pulled his hands away and shoved them under his thighs as was customary in those days for children to do to learn the lesson. Emma reached out and tugged his hands back out to freedom.

"I don't mind," she assured him. "The lace is soft and pretty, is it not?" It wasn't exactly a topic she had thought about having with her son, but his interest had spurred within her a desire to continue talking to him.

"Yes," he admitted, his chubby finger tracing over the pattern. "It is pretty." He toyed with it only a moment longer. "Where's Roland? And Mama?"

Emma felt a sourness in her stomach at the earnest desire of Henry to see Regina. It was to be expected, but still the words had curdled inside her and left her nearly retching at the thought. "Henry, I…" Killian squeezed her hand, his silence not unwelcome but not what she needed either. "I'm not sure. Perhaps we should go fetch them?"

It only took a moment for him to agree, jumping up to standing with no effort at all. At the last moment he stuck his hand up and toward her to hold, which she accepted gladly. Her eyes stayed trained on him as they exited the room, Killian on her other side and keeping his bad arm at the small of her back. It probably would have been more proper for him to have offered his arm, but she was glad for the momentary intimacy that gave her strength.

They didn't find Regina right away, but that was to be expected according to the feeling that Emma got from her mother's wary look. Finally they found her in the library on the second floor. She was thumbing through a thick volume as she stared sightlessly at the pages faded ink.

"Regina, I wanted you and I to speak to Henry," Emma said as calmly as she could, feeling the warmth of Killian's damaged arm through the material of her dress. "Would now be…"

"I doubt I have much choice." She slammed the book closed and turned to face them, holding her arms out to embrace Henry. The boy ran to her, dropping Emma's hand to do so in his sprint. The dark haired woman cradled his face in her hands and stared sharply into his chestnut eyes. "I love you, Henry. You must remember that."

Emma had never expected the conversation to be easy, but it was insanely difficult to say the least. Tears were shed by both women, though for different reasons. And Henry's young mind hardly grasped the nuances of the relationship he now had with both of them. All he knew was that the woman he knew as his mother was upset and the woman who had seemed so kind was too. Kind hearted as he was, he shifted his time between the two, patting their arms and offering hugs. But he had questions too.

"Where will I live?" he asked, not observing the hitch in Regina's breath at the blunt question.

"Here with me," Emma said firmly, not willing to budge on that concession. "You will still see Regina when she visits or we visit her."

"Here with Roland and Leo?" he asked again, clearly trying to picture the circumstances of his new life. "With them?"

"Leo lives here," Emma clarified, looking to Regina who was still silent. "But Roland will return with his papa to where he has always lived."

It was a sticking point it seemed. Roland was his brother, his best friend. And the idea of a home without him was too much for Henry. He asked Emma to reconsider and asked Regina to do something. Regina fumed silently and finally told Henry that perhaps it was time he let the adult speak in private. Once Johanna was summoned to walk with him back to where the other boys were located, Regina snatched the book back off the table and placed it on the shelf with a thunderous thud.

"I had hoped you would say something to him to make this easier," Emma declared, her chin lifting defiantly. "You claim that you did not know of his parentage when you received him, but surely you can understand my desire to raise my own son."

"And surely you must realize that I cannot simply let him go because you now want him."

Emma shuddered, swallowing her first words because they were not fit to say even in the trying circumstances. "I have always wanted my son. My son has always been loved by me. I was tricked and he was stolen from me, but that doesn't mean that I don't deserve to raise him. This isn't an argument. I had hoped you would make this transition easier, but I can see you won't. Is there anything I can do to make you understand all I want is what is best for him?"

"Ruining my life is what is best for him? You don't even know him. You have some fantasy about being a mother. It's not easy. It's hard work. And you are not up to that, Princess Emma."

She shook her head as Killian prepared to say something, not willing to let him fight this battle. "Why are you still here? You must have known I would not let you take Henry with you?"

"Yes, well, perhaps there is one more thing you could see to before you insist upon ruining all that has been my life." She lifted her arms, letting the heavy silken material fall back, maroon revealing thing olive arms circled with black leather. "Your mother has not seen fit to have these removed. Perhaps you could be so kind."

Emma took no step forward, dropping her head slightly as if to study from a distance. "I am to understand that the only way to remove them is with the dagger of the Dark One."

"Yes, that your mother is in possession of within in her chambers I presume."

"Convenient that the one thing that could free your magic this time is the one thing that could free the Dark One," Killian interjected sardonically. "The Queen doesn't strike me as a vindictive soul, so I would think her reluctance is tied to his possible escape more than your acquisition of power." Even in the light weight linen of the clothes laid out for him, Killian exuded much of that military meets pirate style that seemed to call to Emma.

"I have assured her it is quite safe," Regina argued. "She is simply unwilling to listen to reason." She thrust her arms out again.

"I don't think the Queen is to be blamed for her reluctance when dealing with such a dangerous item." Killian kept at Emma's side, but his hand reached at his side for sword which was not there. It was Emma's turn to soothe him, all the while assuring the woman who had married her grandfather that she would see to it that it was discussed later at a meeting of the royal guards.

"This could all be settled so easily," Regina said, holding her arm out again. "Just get the dagger, Emma."


	35. Chapter 35

"You will be kind?" Emma asked, her arm looped through her mother's as they walked along the upper hallway from the nursery wing toward Snow and David's room. "He is not used to all this."

"I have nothing but gratefulness to the Captain," her mother said, tipping her head in recognition of the staff hurrying along to see after some task or another. "And if he is so willing to speak to us directly about his intentions, the least I can do is entertain it."

"And father?"

"I would not worry too much after him," Snow said, squeezing her daughter's arm. "He has long ago accepted that you have given your heart away. We are only appreciative that he respects our stations, responsibilities, and you enough to consider properly courting you. I know you both are in quite a hurry to move on with your lives, but it will help the kingdom accept if you both follow a bit of tradition."

"I fear that you will want to throw another ball in celebration of it," Emma said, wrinkling her nose. Forgive me, but the last was such a disaster in how it ended that I don't wish to ever dance that way again."

"I think we all bear those scars, but you most of all. As much as we have spoken of your future with the captain, I think we must talk about the fate of Rumpelstiltskin. It pains me to say that our solution is only temporary."

Guards were assigned round the clock to the imp's cell in the dungeon. They were at the doors to the stairs, lining the hallway, and at least four stood just outside the cage like enclosure. "I do not know the best solution, Mama," Emma admitted, matching her steps to her mother's pace. "He is not able to be killed as the Dark One. And try as we might, he is far too clever for us to control with the dagger forever."

"I thought we might speak to Blue about binding his powers," Snow suggested. "That might be of some use. Or perhaps banishment."

"But to where?"

"That I don't know, Emma. I just don't know. The royal council will wish to hear your recommendations soon. I will stall them as long as I can."

Emma smoothed the soft material of her mother's sleeve under her hand. "I understand that Belle has asked to meet with me. I suppose she intends to plead his case and ask for mercy?"

Her green eyes darted from side to side as if she might be overheard. "I would assume as much, but Belle is a rather odd bird. She speaks of missing her home and father quite a lot, but then speaks of wishing to stay here and be of service so long as the Dark One remains. I do not know her state at this point and where her allegiances might rest. So please be careful that she does not ask you for something that you cannot fulfill, Emma."

In the short time she had been back, Emma felt an immense pressure mounting from all that was expected and required of her. She cringed to think how much more it would be if it were not for her parents. They entertained requests daily that ranged from the mundane to life saving. It was not clear to Emma if she could ever accept that role. "Regina has also…"

"I know of those requests," Snow said with a sad wistful smile. "I am sure that my father would wish for me to have somehow made amends with my stepmother. But it is not something I have done."

"No one blames you for that," Emma immediately defended. "It is me who had brought her back into our lives. If I hadn't bore Henry, there would have been no reason for any of this."

The muscles around Snow White's mouth tightened and her grip grew firmer. "Emma, please do not speak that way. While it is not how I wished for you to become a mother, it is as fate declared it. I only regret that you have missed so much. But I know that the boy will love you and be a blessing to you."

"I don't know if I can be as good of a mother as he deserves," Emma admitted sadly. The clouds over her face darkened her expression. "Do you think I can?"

Turning part way to face her daughter, Snow disentangled her arm and placed her hands on each of Emma's cheeks. Leaning in, she stretched to kiss her daughter's forehead. "Emma, you can do most anything you wish. I have seen you do what others would think impossible. And I know that you will do your best by Henry too."

***AAA***

A little later Emma found herself outside in the servant's area between the carriage house and the gardeners' workshop in a tiny space that was used for storage. Little quarters dotted the landscape though Emma expected to see no one during her walk. So she was surprised when she saw Robin milling about the grounds.

"It is good to see you, milady," he said with his sad sort of smile. "I was hoping to shoot a few targets while I wait on Regina to come out of our quarters."

"I am so very glad to see you too. I did want to ask after her," Emma explained, holding her skirts up in her fisted hands so that she might step into the game storage without tripping. Hay and dirt made up the floors and the musty sort of smell of it assaulted her nose as she dipped her head to avoid collision with a net that had been hung from the low rafters. "She seemed quite upset earlier."

"She is not taking any of this well," Robin answered bluntly, resting the quiver on the oblong table that lined the rear wall. "It is hard for her, as it is for you, your majesty."

"Such titles are for my parents," Emma corrected him. "I don't mean to make it more difficult, but she is refusing to see herself in a shared role here."

Robin let his hand linger over the softly worn leather of the quiver's strap. "Your highness, Emma, I don't know what to say on the matter other than Henry is dear to both my wife and myself. We love him as our own. And while I would never risk your good nature by suggesting that we continue to raise him, I had hoped that you might…"

"I might what? I have no issue with you speaking plainly to me about how you saw this working, for I have no idea how it might."

His mouth became a thin line as he considered that statement and question. "I had hoped that you and my wife might find a way that we could all be a part of the boy's life. He is a brother to my son and I don't wish to see them parted permanently. Perhaps even the opportunity for either to visit for long periods of time might be just the salve we need to these wounds of separation?"

Emma dropped her arms to her sides and slowly clenched her hands into fists. "I hope you know that I am not trying to punish either Henry or Roland. I simply want to raise my son without interference from a woman I am not all that sure was not complicit in his kidnapping. I should think that my parents would be agreeable to your family living here for a while longer, but…"

"It would be difficult for you to learn to be a mother with Regina over your shoulder. I do grant you that. And you have your own mother from whom to glean advice." He shook his head. "I suppose it would be more of a hindrance to you. Henry is young and will come to love it here. We will be…"

Emma sighed, swallowing the emotions that threatened to overflow. "He is a lucky boy to have so many who love him that we are all willing to fight over him in the name of his well being."

"Is that what we are doing?"

"Forgive me for being so candid, but your wife does appear to me to be preparing for battle. I do not trust that she will not run away with him in the night and never be heard from again. I could not bear that so I must protect my son and myself from that heartbreak." She took a step to her left and lifted the heavy ball out of one of the storage baskets. "I already have many decisions to make, including whether to risk our safety with the dagger to free her once again of the binds. Please don't expect me to make even more."

"I promise that I will do all I can to make this transition for Henry easier. I apologize for adding to your burdens today."

Weighing the ball in her hands, she wondered if it was too heavy for her young son. She seemed to remember playing with similar at his age but the memories were fuzzy in that regard. "Robin, I noticed you didn't stop me from doubting Regina's intentions about Henry."

"If I could, milady, I would. When you love someone, you wish to see the best in them. And while I do love and see the best in my wife, I do fear her sanity might be at the edge if confronted with losing Henry. So I would say that we all should behave with an abundance of caution." His sigh matched her earlier one. "She is a fine mother. As I am sure you will be."

She nodded, shifting the weight of the ball again. "You will be at court today? I believe you were invited."

"Your father has requested my guidance for security going forward. I should like to hear what others are thinking." He chuckled. "It is quite a leap for a man who was a thief to find himself married to a former queen and acting in consult with King David."

"You have earned our trust," Emma said, a grateful smile on her lips at the change of topic. "Do you wish to continue working for the kingdom?"

"It would be preferable and an honor, milady," he smiled. "One I would be proud to serve."

"Perhaps then we might consider living arrangements that would place you and your family on property," Emma said hesitantly. "To be at call when needed, of course."

"That would be of great benefit." He lifted the quiver back to his shoulder and paused before securing the strap into place. "Henry is a fan of his toy soldiers. He plays with them constantly and is often much more talkative when engaged in that sort of thing."

"Thank you, Robin."

***AAA***

Killian draped his arm over the back of the settee, his pose casual and indifferent as he watched a bird outside swoop down and then back to its perch in one of the fruit trees just to the right of the window. While not as ornate as he might have imagined, he appreciated the care that had gone into the room's décor. Ceremonial pieces from other nations and kingdoms were on display and thick carpets had been laid out for the service of the royal couple. Several chairs with plush fabrics sat in orderly fashion and the embers of a fire from that morning still glowed in the fireplace that seemed to him to be as big as his cabin on the Jolly Roger.

"They will be with you shortly," a man about Emma's height said, bowing his head in the pirate's direction and scurrying away as if scared. Killian did not have time to react before he was gone.

Thinking better of his casual position, Killian pulled his arm to his lap and sat up a bit more officially. Outside he could hear Leo's riding lesson going on and close by there was a small discussion of the ladies who were assigned the task of the laundry. Neither made him feel more at ease as he kept count of the minutes passing. He'd already had a trying morning what with Regina having stopped him on the way back to his room to tell him that she did not trust him with Henry. He'd tried to blow it off, but her words had been like venom and cut very deeply.

On the wall over the fireplace was a large canvas painted with oils. On it was a depiction of the royal family, Emma much younger than he had known her and the young Leo still an infant. Even in the captured scene there was so much life in Emma's eyes that he smiled at the image's portrayal of her. It showed an Emma he wished he had known, not for her innocence and purity but her gracious heart that seemed on display rather than hidden.

"She never much has liked sitting still for the portrait makers," Snow said, her heels silent on the stone floors. "Her first one alone was at 6 years old. I sat to the side and read her stories until her eyes drooped shut. The painter scolded me for spoiling her so."

"She looks quite beautiful in that painting as she does now," he said, rising as was customary to greet her. "I have no doubt she was just as enchanting a child."

"Even more so," Snow confirmed, removing a cloth from the tea service that had been brought in earlier. "She was so easy to spoil and love."

"I can certainly see that." He looked to the double doors that separated this room from the private quarters of the king and queen. It was a smallish room meant for entertaining and receiving heads of state or others before more formal events. It was not the type of room that was usually open to him. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me."

Snow passed by him to sit upon one of the chairs, gathering her skirts as she did. "I think we can dispense with the idea that we did not see this coming. In fact, my husband has already started talking of some of the more intricate matters in terms of Emma's ascension to the throne should she wish to do so someday."

He twisted his mouth as he bit back a chuckle. Snow was just as blunt as Emma sometimes, her sardonic wit biting and humorous. "Emma said that you and your husband were expecting as much."

"He will be here in a few moments, but until then would you like some tea?" She waved a slight hand toward the silver service, telling him the story of it. The set had been her mother's, an heirloom of some quality that had served the royal family for some decades. He stooped before it and even with one hand managed to pour the liquid and add to it the honey and lemon that she requested.

"You take yours the same?" she asked, arching an eyebrow at him and the way he rested the delicate cup on his knee. "I suppose I hadn't noticed."

"I'm afraid it has been quite a while since I had it and never with a queen," he said chuckling to himself. "It is easier to follow your lead than recall how to take it that would not be offensive."

Tilting her head, she studied him, really looked at his features. There was the exterior that was rough with scars from battles he was not even sure he remembered. His dark hair was tinged with red that spoke of his earlier coloring as a child. And the lines about his eyes were the only sign that he was not the spry young man he had once been. There was a set to his jaw and clench of his one hand that told of his stubbornness and determination. But she stopped at his eyes. They still showed the man inside, the man whom her daughter clearly loved. "I would not be so bold as to criticize you for your choices in drinking tea, Captain."

"And I appreciate that very much," he said, taking a sip and wincing at the bitterness. "Perhaps a bit of sugar would make it more palatable." He readied the cup more to his liking and smiled when he sipped again.

"Emma often complains of the bitterness too, which is amusing since she has an expansive taste for bitter things in other dishes." She pursed her lips and drew her own cup upward. "Captain, I have not been completely honest with you. My husband will be delayed a bit longer, but it is me you truly need to speak to with regard to your intentions toward Emma. You see…" She blew into her tea and then sipped thoughtfully. "My husband is a kind and generous leader of his people, but he was not born to the station of king. It is a long and sordid tale, but that is not for today. I am the connection to the throne and Emma's continuance of that is as my daughter."

"I see," he said, frowning. It had not been his intention to ask for permission for anything. He merely wished to make them aware and hope that they would accept the relationship that was building between them. The women of his past had needed no such formal invitation, but Emma was a princess. So there he sat with his hand trembling in holding the tea cup and his heart beating a little too erratically.

"I take it that you wish to court her. That is what this visit is about?" She smiled placidly as if she had truly been prepared. "And knowing my daughter as I do, I realize you have not come in need of permission."

"Emma is her own woman, milady. She would not wish to be negotiated like livestock or a treaty." He shook his head. "I rather like that about her and appreciate about her, as well as…"

"It is something to be admired," Snow interrupted, looking thoughtful. "Do you intend to stay here to court her? Or will this be from a distance? I only ask because I feel that her place should be with her son and not attending to your whims."

"I don't think that Emma has any intention of throwing herself into my seafaring life, your highness. Perhaps we might travel someday, but for now I will fit myself accordingly into her world and hope that I do not embarrass or disappoint her too much."

"Emma's father and I have discussed your devotion to her and what we have seen of that," she said, not fishing for the words as some parents might do. "It is commendable, though your past actions are not exactly in accordance with what we would wish for her."

"The pirate thing?" His voice shook and his breath shortened.

She laughed softly at his bluntness. "Yes, it is something we have never really condoned. My own father sent quite a few marauders to their deaths and never was one to offer safe passage through our borders to privateers. But I do believe that exceptions can be made in extraordinary circumstances." She set aside her cup and clasped her hands together, the billowy sleeves of her gown fluttering. "So therefore I will be offering you a pardon, Captain. You are wanted for no crimes in this kingdom, nor those of our allies. It is a bit of a fresh start for you and the men of your crew. I certainly hope that you will use it wisely."

"I am thankful, your highness. It will mean a lot to my men who have been kept from home for far too long in fear of retribution for this life we have chosen. Your forgiveness will free them to do great things."

"Then I am pleased to provide that fresh start." She smoothed her dress. "Now, I have one more request for you before my husband arrives. You were so kind and proficient in bringing Queen Elsa here to assist in Emma's battle against the Dark One. I should hope that you would consider accompanying her home. While it is not the most fraught of journeys, it is important to the people of her kingdom and to Emma. You see, her parents perished during a voyage here. It is unspoken by her, but I feel that she is always concerned about making that trip."

He drew his bottom lip into his mouth and considered that. "Perhaps it might be possible for Emma and Henry to join us. I could arrange for them private quarter and it would provide her the opportunity to spend time with her son without the prying eyes of a kingdom upon them?"

She exhaled sharply, clearly choosing her words with care. "And you think that it would be seen as proper by these prying eyes for her to be in your company unchaperoned for that long?"

"I realize that the request is unconventional. Perhaps a chaperone though?"

"A chaperone for what purpose?" David asked, entering the room without the benefit of his finery. His tunic was of quality material but fit loosely and his pants were more appropriate for riding. It was certainly a more casual look for the royal. "Are we having this discussion already?"

Snow patted the chair next to her and nodded toward Killian to repeat his request. If her response had been one of surprise, David's was one of annoyance. "It may not be fair, Hook, but I don't think it is right to sully our daughter's reputation any further. Yes, she is capable of such decisions, but she is a future queen. I would hope that she would consider that before alienating the kingdom. They are quite anxious to love her and respect her."

"Aye, I merely meant it as an opportunity for privacy for her and the young lad. I offer my assurances that there will be no improper behavior toward her, your highness. Pirates we may be, but we do have honor. I would not object to including a chaperone for the journey."

"Good then," Snow said with her hand snaking out to squeeze at her husband's arm. "I will make those arrangements. If you should be so helpful as to call together your crew."

"Of course," Killian said, looking at David in particular. "I know that you are perhaps expecting me to ask permission to proceed with my intentions toward Emma. But I won't be making that request. I don't find it to be honest in purpose. For even if you were to tell me that she was above me and that I am not suitable, it would be with few misgivings that I would continue to pursue a future with her."

David cleared his throat. "I am sure that my wife has explained our duty to make Emma's ascension as seamless as possible. That would be my hope too, but it is not of the first thought in my concern. The people will come to accept the unconventional nature of her situation. I have no doubt of that. I simply think we are more concerned with Emma's happiness."

"That is my worry as well." He placed the cup back on the smallish table to his right and waited for David's list of grievances to be aired. Snow had given him the kingdom's blessing but David held in him the keys to keeping Emma's family intact. He only hoped that her father would consider him suitable.

"I may have spent a good portion of our adventure not aware of the world around me, but I was awake long enough to see you both together. She clearly cares deeply for you, Hook. And I don't have any doubts that you feel the same. It might be more traditional for me to require some sort of test or demonstration from you, but I don't think that is right or necessary here." He paused, looking to Snow who nodded. "I only ask that you allow Henry the attention and care from Emma he will need. Her attentions should be focused on her son and her duty right now."

"I assure you that I don't intend to leave the lad out of any decision with regard to our future."

"Good," David said with a smile. "I know that it was not necessary for you to place yourself in our audience like this. I respect that you deemed it important. I also hope that we at least receive some notice of your eventual plans at marrying her, if this is indeed your intention."

Killian let the couple's smile upon him warm him for a moment. It had been a long time since parents, including his own, looked at him with anything but fear or anguish. And for a moment he felt the pride of knowing they seemed to understand he was just as concerned and hopeful for Emma as they were. "I have not procured a ring or planned a proposal, but that is not to say I won't someday ask her to be my wife. I would not spend my time courting a woman such as your daughter without that goal. And if I may say, Emma and I have had such an unconventional beginning to our courtship that I hope you are not dismayed that we are not so determined to wait."

"We are not at all surprised by that," Snow spoke up to her husband's quiet acceptance. "Emma is not particularly a patient young woman."

***AAA***

"You wish for me to go?" Red asked, curling her hand into the dough as her grandmother had instructed her. "I thought that I might stay a bit longer and be of aid to Emma."

"Emma and Henry will be guests of Captain Jones on Elsa's return to Arendelle," Snow said, taking a seat at the long wooden table as if she were one of the staff. "And while my daughter is certainly aware of her reputation enough not to engage in anything…"

"You would find it helpful for a chaperone to go along to ensure that her reputation receives no more scars," she concluded with a thoughtful nod. "And I suppose a wolf does make for an intimidating chaperone."

Snow rolled her eyes at her friend's summation. "I suppose it is more intimidating than a bundling bag or board. He assures us that Emma and Henry will have their own quarters and he, himself, will bunk with the crew. Though I have never known a ship's captain to do that."

Letting out a very unladylike whistle that made two of the kitchen staff whisper, Red slapped the heel of her hand into the dough. "Neither have I, especially not one like Captain Hook. But I suppose there is a first time for everything. And he does seem to want to do right by Emma."

"At least consider it. I could throw in a few coins that might make it even more worth your while. Besides, you do enjoy travel, do you not?"

"I suppose, but I do hope that there is room for me on this ship. I don't care to spend the whole time cramped up with no space to roam or let my hair down." She dug her hand into the dough again.

"Actually, it might do me some good to spend time at sea. A few tales I could share at the tavern once we return to the village."

***AAA***

Killian did not see Emma until the royal family arrived to hear from their subjects early that afternoon. From his vantage point on the third row behind a few of the dwarfs and other followers, he watched Emma approach her seat with her head held high and the thin band of platinum shining brightly in her hair. She locked eyes with him immediately and curled her lips into an almost imperceptible smile.

One of the guards stepped forward with his hands clasped together in front of him and the most ridiculous of colorful outfits. "Whosoever has business before the royal family shall speak in turn," he announced, clicking his heels together and gesturing with his chin to the first person. "You there."

A string of farmers, villagers, and peasants made themselves known to the family. Most were simply there to wish Emma well, telling her of their own worries when it came to the Dark One. She was polite in her gratitude and promised a swift but well thought decision soon. However, she gave no hint as to what it might be, even after Robin was asked to address the family about possibly security measures.

A young farmer was about the 20th person called, his clothes freshly pressed but still stained from years of toil. "I wish to offer my congratulations," he said, dipping his head after taking off his straw hat. "To the princess on her betrothal. We shall all truly miss her."

All eyes in the court flicked toward Emma who sat with her mouth open and her hands clutching the arms of her chair. Killian tried to catch her eye, wanting to know what was meant by that, as he had as of yet not proposed or even seen her since his discussion with Snow and David earlier. When she said nothing, David patted her hand. "Thank you for your enthusiasm, but Emma is not betrothed as of now. She will continue on as the princess of this kingdom for the foreseeable future."

"But the talk is…"

The guard stepped forward again, a snap in his movements indicating his discomfort. "Are you arguing with the King?"

"No," the man stammered, looking toward Emma hopefully. "I meant it as a compliment. I simply heard some in the kingdom speaking of her decision to abdicate and take up with her pirate fiancé. I only wished to offer her best wishes."

"Enough," the guard said, pointing toward the seats. "You may take your seat, but no more of this talk."

Emma stood up from her seat abruptly, startling everyone, including her parents near her. "Wait," she said, looking back out toward Killian. "I am not engaged to be married. That is true. But I am in love and happy. So I will accept your good wishes in the spirit with which they were intended. Thank you."

Shifting in his larger throne, David caught Killian's eye and narrowed his accusingly. "We had not intended to announce Emma's courtship in this manner," he announced in his bold but quietly regal tone. "But we will accept your wishes and make any further announcements should they be warranted." Extending his hand toward Emma, he waited for her to be seated again.

The rest of the comments and questions seemed tempered after such a display, the man appearing red faced and embarrassed for having believed innuendo and jumped to conclusions. When dismissed he was nearly out the door before anyone when he caught glimpse of Killian approaching Emma in a fairly familiar way.

"I'm sorry for that," she said, fidgeting with the neckline of her gown. "I didn't think that people would think such things. I should have…"

"He may have gotten the timeline and your role wrong, love, but not the intention. Someday soon perhaps we will be announcing something more, but for now…"

"For now you are here and we are together," she completed, accepting his arm. She tilted her head to the left and let her cheek rest at the juncture of his shoulder and arm for the briefest of moments before standing back straight and walking onward. "I intend to take Henry out to play in the meadow near the stables. Do you wish to join us?"

"If you wish me there, then I will be there," he said, his hook catching the fabric of the draperies separating the room from the hallway and holding it back for her. "I rather like the lad. He makes me feel half my age again."

"That isn't very young," Emma mused teasingly. "But I will let that slide for now. I want to know about your meeting with my parents."

As her parents had already ducked into conference with a few advisors, Emma and Killian found themselves with a moment of privacy. He offered her a brief summary, stopping before he asked about traveling to Elsa's home. "Your mother has made a suggestion and I have said I would accept if you were so inclined," he said, broaching the idea carefully. He explained the trip and said he would understand and accept her wishes. "I do feel some responsibility to get her home safely, though it would mean my absence for a bit."

She was quiet, turning her head to consider his offer without getting lost in his eyes or smile. "I think I should like that," she said finally. "I think it would be good for Henry as well. From what I know his travel with Regina was limited."

She looped her arms over his shoulders and tilted her head back. "Then we shall travel any place the two of you wish, my love. I would relish showing you any realm of your choosing." He crashed his mouth down on hers, passionately reuniting themselves there in the hallway. To her amusement he was not shy about that, practically lifting her off the ground as he nipped at her lips and drank her in like a wine.

"I can see that my services are needed," Red said, interrupting them with a clearing of her throat. "The two of you won't last in this courtship if Emma's parents are subject to such displays."

"Is that to say you will be our chaperone?" Emma asked, the pink of her cheeks not as bold as it had been after earlier kisses.

"Your mother has asked and I have accepted this challenge," Red teased back. "That is quite a responsibility, but I intend to keep my promise to my dearest friend that her daughter's reputation suffer no more. Need I remind you though that a ship is not that big of a place and my hearing is sharp as a blade?"

"We will be on our best behavior," Killian offered, tightening his left arm's hold around Emma's waist. "You will have nothing nefarious or indecent to report to her parents."

Red pursed her lips and eyed them both suspiciously. "See that I don't. And I am to tell you, Emma, Henry is joining Leo for tutoring right now and Belle is looking for you. I told her I would direct you to your study to meet her." Never one for formalities, Red gave a sort of half curtsey and scurried away from them toward the direction of the gardens.

Rocking backwards, Emma sighed. "I wish that I did not have to make such decisions. I would prefer to spend time with my son and with you."

"It is a great burden, love, but one you will fulfill with the goodness of your heart. I have never met anyone who is as clever and good natured as you, my darling. You will make the right decisions though."

Emma turned to walk toward the stairs that would take her up to her suite, linking arms with him again as she did. "I feel for Belle," she admitted. "We do not choose who we love, but she seems to have fallen in love with a mad man who is beyond redemption. I know that my decision will affect her greatly. I only hope that she can understand."

"She does not seem a fool. I'm certain that she expects you to deliver some form of punishment to a man who stole your son, threatened his life, and your own. Perhaps she might be better out from under his influence." He stopped short, which led Emma to stop too, her skirts still swishing like a bell. "Regina said something that I feel I must clear from the air."

"Did she insult you?" Emma asked, frowning deeply. "I want to believe she is worth the risk of releasing the dagger even temporarily, but she does not seem to change."

"No, my love. It was not an insult or even a threat really. It was simply a question that struck within me a need to make sure you don't believe this too." His bottom lip trembled as he breathed out. "She thinks I am here with you because I still have designs on revenge with the Dark One. Her question was if I was somehow falsifying my affection for you to somehow influence you into torturing the man."

Emma's face twisted into a painful scowl. "You would not do such a thing," she stated, her hand on his chest. "I know you have vengeance in mind for him, but you would not force me to act that out."

He closed his eyes briefly, pulling her into him for a hug and keeping her there against him. "I will not say that my desire for vengeance has disappeared completely, though you are a great distraction. But I would not do anything to jeopardize your happiness or safety."

Fingers curling in the material of his tunic, she pressed her cheek to his chest. "I know that and love you for it. I promise that I don't feel burdened by you. But I would like your advice once I am prepared to decide the Dark One's fate. You know far more about him that I ever would. And I will always listen to you, Killian."

"Go see Belle, love. I will see to it that you have all the information you need to make your decision. You don't have to do this alone."

The visit with Belle did not yield any new information, but Emma put that out of her mind as she watched her son run among the tall grass and flowering plants that dotted the meadow. It had been one of her favorite places as a child. Her father chasing her and her mother sneaking about in the grass, showing her how to play and track.

Henry made a happy sound as he dodged the arms of his mother and sprinted toward the garden wall that rose high with ivy covering its stone surface. It was Killian who caught him, circling his arm around his middle and lifting him as the boy's feet and legs still moved as if scampering in midair.

"What shall I do with him, love?" Killian asked, swooping his catch down and then up again to the delight of his passenger. "I should think he might catch us a fish for dinner if I throw him in the river as bait."

Emma's cheeks were pink from the game they had been playing, her golden hair the color of soft butter in the warm spring sunshine. "We might as well throw him to the dragon," she said calmly, her eyes telling another story of mischief. "Perhaps the one that lives just over there."

Still kicking his young legs, Henry's gaze followed his mother's extended arm. "Those are just horses."

"Aye, but a dragon is not known for showing herself to the world in broad daylight, lad," Killian said, whirling him to face that direction. "One must look for her glowing eyes and listen for her rumble of a growl that makes everything shiver and quake."

"And don't forget the smoke and fire," Emma added in her best ominous voice. Even with the teasing Killian could see her shudder at the thought of a dragon and immediately regretted the game. "You can catch a whiff of the smoke and singed foliage if you stand in the right spot."

"Truly?" Henry asked, his chocolate eyes wide with questions. "I want to see."

"Perhaps when it is a bit later," Killian compromised, setting Henry back upright. "Your mother is quite hungry. Have you not heard her stomach roar almost as loud as any dragon?"

Mouth open and hands fisted at her hips, she looked as upset as she could manage. However, her lips twitched for the forced frown and she laughed at the description. When her stomach again rumbled in a most unladylike fashion, she bent in half with titters.

Henry, still finding his balance after the pirate's attack, held out his small hand to Emma.

"Are you truly?"

"Am I truly hungry?" Emma asked, extending her own hand with disbelief that he was so affectionate so soon. His small palm circle her middle fingers and their combined hands swung for a moment as he considered an answer.

"No," he clarified, squinting upward at her. "Are you truly my mother? I already have one, you know?"

"Yes, Henry, I truly am." Her frown was real this time as she stooped down to eyelevel with him. "I am your mother and I am awfully sorry that I was not with you all these years. Do you think you might…Do you think you might forgive me for that?"

He nodded solemnly. "So now I have two?"

Emma sighed, blinking back tears that threatened to fall. "I…"

"You are quite a lucky lad," Killian interrupted, joining them by mimicking Emma's posture on the other side of Henry. "For your mother here already loves you very much. I had to work very hard for her to ever agree to hold my hand. And you have already earned that privilege."


	36. Chapter 36

The late afternoon sun had already sunk just past the line of trees at the beginning of the orchard, leaving long shadows and cooler air in its disappearance. Emma did not feel any of that as he tipped her chin upward and kissed her sweetly there in the queen's personal garden. More than a bit improper given the courting customs of the kingdom, she was happily stealing a few moments alone with him and without a chaperone or half a dozen staff members to interrupt. She hummed, against his lips, pulling herself up against him as his hand trailed up and then down her back again and again.

"You are distracted, my love," he said softly, their breath still mingling between them. "I hope it is not a lack of interest."

She smiled, arching upward to give him a quick but solid kiss before turning several degrees in his arms. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to waste these moments with you. It's just that I am no closer to my decision about the Dark One."

"Ahhh," he said, having not moved his head and kissing the apple of her cheek. "Do you wish to talk about it?"

"I am tired of talking about it. I'm tired of thinking about it." Her hand lifted up and splayed across his chest where his newly repaired coat folded into a collar. "We have so precious little time together that I don't wish to spend it thinking of that man."

"Whatever shall we discuss?" he asked, his lips again coming into contact with the soft skin of her cheek and trailing downward toward her ear and her neck. She sighed and tilted her head to permit him access. As soft and sweet as these moments were, she was longing for more with the pirate. Already in their few days back at the palace, she had thought of sneaking from her suite of rooms to visit Killian. She had not yet succumb to that desire, as she knew it would change things. And she wasn't sure yet that she could give herself over to that without suffering some repercussion. Still he was infinitely patient and kind with her, never pushing too far or too soon.

"Tell me about sailing," she said, not sounding nearly as dreamy as she had when they had talked about other such topics earlier. "Will I see you at all aboard or will you be too busy?"

Nuzzling against the spans of her neck, he grinned. "I will always make time for you, my love. We can't have you and the boy bored. I will give you both lessons should you wish."

She simpered coyly, though his eyes probably didn't catch her expression. "And after he has gone to bed?" she asked. "Do you think we might spend some time together, just the two of us?"

"Oh but that is when the fun begins," he teased, his hand traveling along the bodice dress in aimless exploration. "But we shall have to endeavor to be very quiet. Red will never let us have too much fun."

She tipped her head back toward his, parting her lips slightly as he looked at her with hooded eyes. "I think we will manage that. Though you will have to remind me to be mute. You are very distracting, Killian."

"That is my intent," he said before crashing his lips against hers. How they remained upright was a mystery to both of them, as the press of his lips was more intense and the sensation of gravity overwhelming as she clung to him.

"Princess Emma," voice not wholly unfamiliar to them broke through the reverie. The soft tone belonged to her mother's maid, a stern woman with frizzy hair and a cold disposition unless you were Snow. "Your mother was looking to speak with you."

"Thank you, Miss Evers," Emma answered, her eyes still locked with Killian's amused expression and her fingertips touching her lips lightly. "I…Please tell her I will be there shortly." She frowned as Killian lumbered to his feet and extended a hand toward her that she readily accepted. "Disappointed?"

"You worry that I will be too busy on my ship to attend to showing you how I love you, Emma. You forget that your duties here often take you from me."

"I think I should like your responsibilities better," she bemoaned as she dusted off the green skirts of her gown from any of the grass that might have littered it. She cut her eyes toward him, studying his relaxed expression that seemed to study her with interest. "You must be quite bored here. There is very rarely adventure or intrigue. And when there is, it is my father and his staff who must deal with it."

"I assure you, my love, you provide me enough adventure for a lifetime. I simply wish to be at your side."

Her frown remained, even as he lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles before tucking it into the fold of his arm to walk with her inside. She didn't know for sure what he did all day, as her father met with most of his advisors, consulted a few of the local villagers and merchants, and inspected the grounds, livestock, and armories before nightfall. Even her mother wasn't relegated to needlepoint, as she had taken a larger role in diplomacy and wrote letters to other heads of state and drew upon her knowledge to strike deals through the staff that traveled far and wide.

"I hate that our time alone leaves you with such a frown, my love," he said as they stepped over the stone path to the doors that would lead them inside. "Should I not seek you out? Is the distraction from your duties too much? I can hold myself back until after dinner when your parents have said it would be appropriate for us to take our walk."

It seemed silly that they were only supposed to see each other once a day for a walk about the palace grounds. That was a time for a courting couple to get to know each other, speak of hobbies and passions, and talk in generalities about the future. She knew Killian far too well for such things.

"Don't you dare," she scolded lightly. "I enjoy all the moments, stolen or otherwise."

"Then why do you look so angry at the thought of us being together?" His eyes narrowed at her, blinking against what she could tell was a drop of insecurity.

"It is the opposite," Emma declared, gingerly stepping over a loose stone from the path.

"I dread the hours while you are away from me. Tell me, Killian. What do you do with that time?"

"Lately I have been preparing for our voyage with Queen Elsa," he said nonchalantly. "And prior to that I was with you and your family drawing up plans for the Dark One's demise. I always find something, love."

She curled her fingers around his bicep and squeezed. "It might help if you had a title here. I know you have said you don't wish to lead the navy, but a lesser task perhaps?"

"If it takes me away from you, then I have no use for it." He used the rounded end of his hook to push open the door with a slight shove. "Titles are of very little interest to me unless it is the title of your husband." Emma smiled at his not so veiled insinuation that there was no doubt in his mind they would someday be husband and wife. The thought appealed to her far more than she had imagined.

"It will be far fancier than that, Captain," Snow interjected, her mustard colored gown and interwoven headpiece glowing in the late sun. "Once Emma ascends, you will be prince consort of our kingdom. That is if you marry her. I do apologize for interrupting."

"You wished to see me?" Emma asked, still clutching Killian's arm.

Her mother waved them out of the hallway and into the corridor next to the library where some of the older artwork was on display. "Belle has made a discovery," Snow said, glancing toward the doors to the first floor library where the woman had barricaded herself behind stacks of old texts. "She was reading some of the works about the lore of the Dark One and found a list of previous ones who are now dead."

"There is no way to kill one without becoming it yourself," Killian interjected, his brow furrowed in confusion of what the Queen might be discussing. "He killed that Zoso or whomever and absorbed the powers. Surely you can't be suggesting that Emma kill the Dark One and become one herself."

"No, no," Snow said. "In it she read of the first one, a woman by the name of Nimue. It is said that her lover, Merlin, spent many years searching for a way to drain the darkness from her without destroying her life. He failed, but he was able to make some headway. He's not been seen in quite a long time, but if we could find him…"

"We might could separate Rumpelstiltskin from his darkness and administer and appropriate punishment for him," Emma said thoughtfully. "But if Merlin is as old as this Nimue, how is he still alive?"

"Merlin is a great wizard," Snow told her daughter, her eyes dancing with excitement over making progress. "He was said to be immortal and living in Camelot. Some believe he may have disappeared after failing to return Nimue to her original form."

"So we would have to search for him in Camelot?" Killian pondered. "It is quite a journey from here." Emma had yet to let go of his arm, allowing him to feel the gentle sway and the swish of her skirts against his leg. "I have met sailors and travelers from there, but they are rarely in this part of the realms. And I don't know of any at the moment."

"Lancelot?" Emma asked quietly. "He was from there, was he not?"

"Yes," her mother said, a warm smile filling her face. "He has often been an ally to us. If anyone knows of Camelot's most hidden places, it would be him. If you would wish to go this route, your father could see if he could contact him. They were once great friends and confidants."

Emma nodded, looking toward the doors herself. "She truly wishes for us to spare him."

"She is aware of misdeeds and the torments that he is responsible for over all these years, but she does seem to love him. When you love someone you are able to look past such things sometimes." She frowned. "I hope that she can see clear to accept your decision, Emma."

"I am sure that she can." Emma leaned forward and kissed her mother's cheek. "You and father should contact Lancelot. I am sure that he will set us on the right path to finding this Merlin." She then turned her eyes toward Killian. "Perhaps you might be able to help us travel to this other realm with your ship?"

"Of course, my love. I will be happy to do so." His agreement brought out a widening smile from Emma and a sigh from Snow. "But it will still require preparation. Should we postpone our voyage to return Queen Elsa home?"

"No, that is a priority. You have summoned your crew, have you not? I think that we should not delay that any longer. Elsa's kingdom is at a disadvantage without her there. I would not wish to endanger her people simply to explore this possibility." She turned slightly to face her daughter. "Have you decided if you wish to free Regina of her bonds? I doubt we can stave off her requests much longer."

Emma ran her teeth across her bottom lip. "I would feel better about it if we could keep some of the binding in place," she mused. "Perhaps there is a way to restore her powers but not allow her to take off with Henry."

"I would ask if you really think she would do such a thing, but I fear you already have decided that she would. And I cannot argue that fear, as I have the same." Snow crossed her arms over her chest. "Perhaps you and Elsa could work on that before she leaves. It is worth a try."

***AAA***

Emma's hair, loose about her shoulders, blew upward messily as she dropped a stack of books and papers on the round table that was usually reserved for her father's discussions of battles and plans. She wrinkled her nose at the cloud of dust that accompanied it. She had not planned to be inside all day, as she wanted to go for a ride with Henry and Killian. Yet her father had summoned Killian just that morning and without time for more than a kiss to her cheek he was gone.

"I am quite sure that he must be missing you," Elsa said from the other side of the table. Her long fingers were delicately turning the pages of a volume that looked to be older than her years. "I would think if we opened the door he might be pacing outside waiting to catch a glimpse of you."

Her tone was light as she teased her friend, but there was an underlying question still hanging in the air. Emma had not confided in her friend that Killian had asked her parents for their understanding of the decision to court her. He had sworn he would not ask permission, finding the idea as detestable as she did. Instead he was just informing them that they had intentions to see each other and perhaps consider marriage in the future. Red had been haranguing the princess as well, asking more pointed questions and commenting that she should be informed if she was to be a chaperone on the journey to return Elsa to her kingdom.

"I assure you that he is far too busy to be concerned with me at the moment," Emma said, sitting back in the soft leather chair that seemed too large for her small frame. "We saw each other just last night."

"For a walk about the gardens?" Elsa queried, her eyes dancing over the page with far more enthusiasm than the text required. "Seems that you two have done that quite a bit over the last few nights."

It was true, Emma thought to herself as she reached for a piece of the cheese that the servants had recently brought up for them. She and Elsa had not dallied over breakfast that morning, determined to find some way that they might separate the Dark One from his dagger. While the process would probably be daunting, Emma had concluded that it was the only way to truly receive justice for his crimes and even save Regina from the fate of the binding cuffs.

"I don't understand why we can't just cut the cuffs off her like we did the last time," Emma mused, ignoring the implied tone of the statement about Killian. "Surely it must be a similar spell."

"It is more complicated," Elsa sighed. "I attempted it myself, but there was not even a sliver of the binds that was removed. It seems the Dark One was prepared for such an occurrence. She seems to think that he was preparing to use them on you should you have tried to stop him."

Instinctively Emma reached for her wrist with her left hand and frowned, her brow wrinkling at the thought. "I might be better off if he had. I do not like magic as much as others do. It might do me better not to be cursed with the burden of it."

Not bothering to disagree, Elsa nodded, biting into a slice of apple. She chewed for a moment and then wiped at her mouth with a lace handkerchief. "I do not think that the Captain minds your magic too much. Perhaps he even appreciates it a bit too much." Elsa still did not look up from the page except a quick peek to confirm Emma's cheeks were nearly crimson. "Though I think that there is very little if anything he dislikes about you."

Emma pursed her lips and lowered her shoulders. "Were you this annoying when it came to Anna's courtship with Kristoff?"

"Far worse," Elsa said with a growing smile. "As towering of a man as he is, Kristoff sometimes shook as he spoke to me, afraid I would freeze him on the spot if I found him lacking."

"He must truly love her to put up with you." Emma smiled to herself as she flipped the page. While she was not the type of young royal who spoke in whispers about possible beaus with other blue bloods, she was eager to know that her dearest friends approved of her and Killian's relationship. It would make things easier going forward if people not only accepted but were supportive. She was already contemplating just how long of a courtship would be necessary, as she wasn't really wanting to spend all her time with him on quiet walks about the palace grounds or in the company of her parents for dinners.

"Speaking of…" Elsa dropped the page she was about to turn and finally caught Emma's eyes with her own. "If you can't speak to your childhood friend about your beau, then who can you trust?"

Trying not to smile in return, Emma breathed in sharply through her nose. "He informed my parents of his intention to court me."

The normally stoic queen slumped a little. "That is all? I thought there might be bigger news than that. You are coming with us to keep him company as he sails me home, are you not? That is not among the traditional courtship activities."

"Elsa," Emma said warningly.

"Emma, I want to see you happy. And with him around you never have smiled brighter. Surely your parents must see that too. Your father was a shepherd. He's hardly a man of proper nobility himself."

Pulling another book toward her, Emma began to thumb through the pages, waiting for that sigh that said Elsa was giving up on her questions. It didn't come. "I love him," she said simply. "And as for my parents. My mother is being most understanding and my father got to know him much more during the time in the…"

"Your father does seem much more amiable to him now," she conceded, her eyes dancing again over her next question. "And when you two are on your walks, what do you discuss?"

"Elsa, it's private."

The queen pouted prettily, crossing her arms over her chest. "I would tell you, if I were being courted. You don't have to give me details of every word…"

"We," Emma said, brushing a page aside without really reading it, "We talk about everything. The weather, his adventures, Henry, my life at the palace, the future…" She bit her lip. "Mostly about the future…"

"I'm happy for you, Emma." She ran a finger over the neckline of her soft blue gown. "While not as intriguing as the subject of your captain, I do wonder if it is wise that you leave on the ship to return me home. Are you not needed here?"

It was not as though Emma had not thought the same things. She felt guilty to be planning for a voyage with her son, her friend, and her love when there were still so many questions about the Dark One and how to handle the situation of Regina. Yet even her mother had declared that it was necessary to return Elsa to her throne and relieve the younger of the sisters of the duty. While they were still contemplating how to best travel to Camelot, it was not a dire situation. The Dark One was contained and Regina had been removed from her magic before. Emma told her friend as much. "There are so many preparations to be done in terms of going to this Camelot that it does not make sense to put life on hold now to do it. You are needed at home. And my parents say they will spend the time of the voyage learning more about this other kingdom and getting us all ready to go there."

"I will miss you," Elsa said when the case had been made. "You must promise to visit again."

"I think I would not be able to stay away."

***AAA***

Robin patted the horse heartily, his breathing a bit labored from the ride that he and Killian had taken with David. It had been an impromptu jaunt, the king had called it, but a lengthy one that threatened not to get them back before dark if they were not careful.

"For a pirate you sit a good mount," Robin said, squinting up at the still seated Killian. "I would not think you would have much experience at it."

"All my pirating has not been limited to the sea. I rather think I am fearsome in any condition."

David, who was a few paces ahead of them, stretched his arms over his head and then turned to his two traveling companions. "My wife may have pardoned you, Captain Jones, but I don't think it wise to mouth off your exploits in front of your king and the father of the woman you have said you wish to marry."

Steadying himself on the saddle horn with his hook, Killian swung his leg over and jumped to the ground effortlessly. "Mate, I do believe we said that my intentions toward your daughter were honorable and not at all related to my pirating."

David did not correct or chastise the man, instead squinting into the distance. "If we hurry, we might see this estate and still make it back in time to beat the dark home."

"And whose estate would that be?" Robin asked, falling in line a few steps to the left of the king. "I know of no noblemen in this area."

"There hasn't been for years that I can remember," Killian said, running his hand along the curve of his hook as he thought and walked. "Last I heard the only estate was being argued over by two brothers while the magistrate tarried over a decision about it. Rather large place, if I recall."

David did not answer either man as he kicked open the gate and led them down an overgrown path to a house that seemed neglected but serviceable. "It has not been occupied in some time," he said, opening the door and stepping inside. Dust danced in the air and sheets of muslin covered the furniture pieces that remained. "It would take some work."

"Aye, it is appears that no one has attended to it in some time." Killian followed the floor to a steep staircase and peered upward toward the darkened second floor. "I would think it could be restored by a knowledgeable woodworker and crew. I have one on my ship I might recommend upon our return."

Robin had not made it past the side door where they had entered, his eyes reddening with the dust and allergens that assaulted him. "You mean for your daughter to live in such a place?" he asked, confused by the king's interest in such a place. "Or Graham? Has he proposed to that barmaid Red?"

David kneeled at the fireplace and gave the chimney a cursory glance. It had been years since he had seen one like it, as the ones at the palace were larger and had a staff to light them. This place too could have a small staff if appropriately outfitted. "I was thinking of you and Regina with your son. While I would not think to hurt my daughter by saying so in front of her, I know that this situation with Henry will require us all to make sacrifices. The boy will have two mothers in his heart for all times. So it is unlikely that a traditional home life would be possible."

Killian slid his boot off the bottom step and clenched his jaw as he stared at the royal. "You don't mean for Henry to live with…"

"I mean for him to be able to visit them as he wishes. While Regina has the lands she was bequeathed by her late husband originally, I thought this might be of more use to you all. And as Robin has already agreed to head a new branch of my guards, the family will be needing a place to call their own. He's got the aim of a sentry and the strategy of some of my top soldiers. I think it will be a good and proper fit."

"And your daughter is approving of this? I would think she would like Regina as far away as possible?" Robin took a tentative step inside and then rocked back unsure of himself. "She can't possibly…"

"My daughter is not unkind or uncaring, Robin. I assure you that she has already agreed to this arrangement."

***AAA***

"You are taking him away?" Regina asked as Emma emerged from the wing of the palace that included the room that the boys were using for play. The former queen looked like a woman in an odd sort of mourning with the black silk and crepe dress that cinched her waist spectacularly. Her dark hair shone in its severe twist. "You cannot deny it. I saw the stewards with the trunks."

Emma dropped her head vaguely toward Elsa. "I will join you shortly."

The blonde queen icily stared at Regina, holding her gaze for a moment before retreating. It was only then that Emma spun to face Regina. "He is my son, Regina. And I have arranged for him to accompany me on the trip to return Elsa to her kingdom. I think that it will be good for him to see more than just this kingdom."

"You think it would be good to separate him from me. I'm the only mother he has ever known."

"I am his actual mother," Emma said firmly, her arms twitching to fold at her waist. "I am going to enjoy a voyage with my son. You will have the privilege of seeing him upon our return by month's end."

Regina seethed, her fingers flexing as if she wanted to unleash some magical fury. "I won't allow it."

"You have no choice in the matter," Emma said. "I am making sacrifices, but I won't be held hostage here because you fear that I am so reckless as to turn my son against the woman who has raised him. My friend, Elsa, must return to her kingdom to attend to her own affairs of state. Killian has graciously agreed to transport her and I am taking my son along for the adventure. I owe you no explanation further."

Regina's voice bellowed loudly in the halls of the palace. "Your pirate should not be around my son."

"Killian adores Henry and my son is just as happy with Killian. I hardly think that it is inappropriate for them to spend time together given that Killian and I are together."

"He's a pirate with a hook for a hand, of course Henry adores him. He sees danger and excitement, but the pirate is no father figure."

"You are married to a former but still notorious thief. That is different?"

"Robin may have stolen when necessary, but he did not murder, rape, or ruin the lives of men and women for however ungodly long he's been alive. Is that really the kind of man you want around your son, someone who could once he is done with you, kill you both with a flick of his hook?"

"You have no privilege to say anything of the sort," Emma declared, spinning away from the woman who had threatened her family far too many times to count. "And I will choose this once to ignore your blatant disregard for that fact with the reminder that my decision to not send you away with no contact to or from Henry has been made in the faith that Henry does love you. It should not be taken as my desire to enter into any sort of partnership or agreement. I will be raising my son as I should have been afforded the honor of doing all along. That is to say without interference from you."

She did not wait to hear what Regina might say in response. Instead, she hurried away to ensure that the few travel arrangements she still needed to make while waiting for Killian's crew to reassemble were ready. She didn't want to think about a life without Killian or one where she might have to choose between the man she had finally admitted she loved or her son who was with her at last. Both seemed answers to prayers.

She felt her eyes fill with tears, wondering if she was already failing at motherhood because she was planning to raise her son in the company of a pirate. She did not even see her father coming from the opposite direction until she felt his solid chest as she bumped into him.

"Emma, are you alright?"

She nodded her head, not wanting to let her voice betray her with words at that moment. But as she did, she felt the tremble of her lips and the saltiness of the tears. Feeling all that of three years old, she launched herself into her father's arms and sobbed into the fur around his collar.

"What has he said to you?" David asked, his left hand rubbing up and down her arm. "What did that pirate do?"

She pulled back her head and blinked at him. "Nothing, Killian said nothing. I have not…I have not seen him."

"Then who hurt you?" She realized that his right hand had dropped to the hilt of his sword, as if he might charge after whosoever hurt his darling girl. "Emma, tell me."

In broken sentences she told him of Regina's demand.

"She has no say in the matter," David said, looking relieved and still angry at the same time. "She is lucky that we have not pursued what she knew of Henry when the Dark One gave him to her."

"You don't think…"

"No, I do not, but I also know that you are not the one at fault here. Captain Hoo…Killian has more than proven himself as a friend and ally to this family. Should the two of you marry, I see no reason for concern in him taking on the role of a father in Henry's life should he continue along the right path. So far as we know, Baelfire will not or cannot return here."

"You were ready to accuse him of hurting me." Emma pulled back from her father and frowned, her arms crossing and folding in front of her lemon yellow and white dress. "You don't trust him. Not really."

"Emma, I saw…"

"No, just be plain with it. You don't trust him. You are simply waiting for him to fail so that you may gloat at my heartbreak."

***AAA***

The palace, as Killian had learned, was never completely quiet or dark. It suited him in that way, reminding him of the Jolly Roger and the constant barrage to his senses. So as he sat before the waning fire that the servants insisted upon lighting for him instead of letting him do it himself, he was not surprised to have to ignore the scampering of feet overhead or the muted conversations below as servants came and left from their shifts. He was surprised with the small tapping at his door and the unannounced visit from Emma.

She launched herself at him as if they had not parted just a little while before. They had foregone their normal walk about to sit in one of the downstairs parlors and play a card game with her younger brother and son. It was far from the rowdiness of his years of tavern hopping and drunken debauchery, but he loved to see her smile and laugh as he imagined she must have done as a child. However, on that night she had not been very happy. Putting off his concern, she had hid behind soft grins that never reached her eyes and words that seemed to be laced with other meaning.

"I missed you," she said when she yanked her mouth away from his and attempted to set herself to rights without the aid of her maid or even a mirror.

"Highly improper to receive a princess in my bed chamber, love, but I will not send you away." He was teasing her on the propriety issue, having been schooled by Snow on proper etiquette after kissing Emma in sight of many of the guests.

She threw her lips against his again, a desperation there that was usually more of a passion and desire than unabashed need. His response was echoing, but he kept his hand at her shoulder, as if ready to push her back if required. That's what he had to do when she began to tug at the buttons of his shirt. "Emma?"

"I…I just need…" She shook her head and tried to pull him to her again, the hands messily attempting to push away the fabric. "Please, Killian. Please."

Craning his neck back, he drank in the sight of her pleading with him and nearly melted on the spot. It would be a lie to say he had not imagined her in his bed with the same wanton spirit about her. His dreams had echoed the same pleading tone as he mapped out every inch of her and ravaged her with the intent of claiming her as his own. Yet he had resisted, sometimes almost failing, as he wanted her to know that he was not lacking in patience or restraint. "Emma, my love, I don't wish to send you away, but what brought this on?"

"I…" She ran her palms over the planes of his chest, the fabric of his tunic soft and thin. It was dark in color, but not his normal black, something she had meant to inquire about before. "I need you, Killian. I need you to…" She broke off, her eyes fluttering shut as she inhaled slowly.

"My love, if I am able, I will do most anything for you. What is it that you are asking of me?"

She did not raise her eyes, keeping them trained on the lacey inset of her gown and the way it did not lay exactly against her skin. "You love me. I know you do, for you have said so and practically given away all that you loved in your life so that you might be with me. It is not that I don't trust in that. I do." She paused, breathing in sharply and feeling quite lost in her own words. "And I love you far more than I could have ever dreamed possible."

Bending his knees, he stooped down so that he might see her eyes. It was a simple gesture that seemed to show even more respect for her autonomy than lifting her chin and forcing her to look at him. "Whatever is bothering you cannot be so bad as to cause this state?" Keeping her still in the circle of his arms, he nodded toward the fireplace and the settee in front of it that was miniscule in comparison to her own sitting room furniture. "Perhaps this might be easier if we were to sit for a while. This old pirate's legs are still a bit tired from such a long ride today."

She nodded, letting him guide her toward the fireplace. "You didn't tell me about your adventure. Where did you go?"

"There will be time for that," he assured her, welcoming her back to his embrace after they sat. He couldn't help smiling as she practically sat in his lap she was so close to him. "I would much rather hear what is troubling you so that we might remedy it."

She finally did tell him, the words not easily spilled and her shyness in avoiding his eyes evidence that she did not want to see him feel the pain of her family's seeming distrust of him still. "I don't know why we must pretend to follow their rules when they have shown no respect for us.

"And you think that giving ourselves over to our passions would somehow remedy their misgivings?"

She wrinkled her nose. "I suppose that sounds quite silly. I do love you, Killian. I want to be with you. I suppose I am…I am tired of pretending that I am some pure and sanctified princess as they seem to want to treat me. You have done nothing to impugn my reputation, but people do assume."

His thumb stroked the high apple of her cheek. "Emma, I am far from sainthood myself. And I have had more impure thoughts of you than a man should, especially about a princess whose father could lob my head off for even looking at you the way that I wish. It has been a struggle, but I am trying to meet the challenge."

"I have them too," she admitted boldly before snuggling into his side. "Thoughts, I mean. About you."

He did not force her to face him as she admitted that, appreciating that it was hardly an easy confession. Still he couldn't help but appreciate her willingness and soft assurance that she was very much a woman in love. "Do you now, lass? I think I should like to hear them."

"Killian," she complained. "I…"

"Emma, my love, I would not object to making love to you right now. I simply don't want that to happen if you are only trying to erase the doubts that Regina and your father put into your mind. I should think that our coming together should be about us and our desire, and even our inability to hold back from such things any longer, not about them."

The breath she was holding expelled through her nose, tickling the skin exposed near his chest and throat. "At least my mother seems to like you."

"Aye, and your father was quite companionable today. He seemed to have resigned himself to the idea of our being together. Their approval is important to you."

He could not see her frown as she stayed with her cheek on his shoulder, but he could feel her tense. "I wish that it wasn't, but it is. I suppose that is part of being a princess, wanting to win the love and approval of your people, including my parents. I feel that I have disappointed them in the past."

He let her admit that without interruption, waiting until her hiccupped breath indicated that she had no more strength to say more. "If they are holding such disappointment over you, then that is their failure. For all I see when I look upon you is a woman with a beautiful heart and a strength that could best even my most well-meaning crew. Should I ply you with compliments until you begin to believe them yourself?"

"It's not necessary," she said, relaxing a bit in his arms. She lifted her head in search of his lips, which he readily gave her. It was a slow kiss, lips parting and tongues softly exploring as they held each other. When they finally parted, he saw the sadness in her eyes was not fully gone, but it was diminished.

"Then let me tell you of your father's adventure today." He explained about the estate and remarked that it did seem a bit below the station Regina would probably prefer. "I can't imagine her carrying water in from the well by herself. Perhaps the servants' quarters might be expanded before they take possession."

"It is not too far away for Henry to visit, should he wish?"

"No, and as the lad grows, he'll be able to do so by horse without too much trouble at all. It's a lovely little journey. And if your mother is still of mind, she will have your boy astride a good steed alone by the time his feet may reach the stirrups. I gather it is one of the few things she has in common with her stepmother, both are skilled and talented horsewomen."

"Mother saw to it that I had a specially fitted saddle for my fifth birthday. It was something she enjoyed and provided me too. We used to have our best talks as she taught me to ride about the palace lands. Johanna would complain that it was improper for me to ride anyway but side saddle, but mother was not as strict. She would ride properly until we were out of sight and then we would race to the pond or the flower meadow. Mama can be very competitive."

"Aye, I can sense that about her. Perhaps we might take a ride ourselves and let you show me about these grounds. Your mother suggested that I might have some opinion on a horse for your lad. I told her I was more of a seaman, but she insisted."

"I'd like that," Emma said, rolling her lips inward. "I would like to stay here with you while longer, if you would allow."

***AAA***

The morning light was softly muted coming through the window of Killian's room, but he barely noticed it through his bleary eyes. Emma had stayed with him that night, shuddering at the thought the two times he had asked her if she would like to go back to her suite. He couldn't say that all was proper and in accord with her parents' wishes, but he had been reluctant to let her go. When they had spoken of their last thoughts, he had found himself carrying her to the soft bed that had to be half the size of her own. She had smiled at the sweet way he ensured she was warmly snug under the blankets and immediately curled herself into him without reservation. They had slept side by side before, but the bed and privacy was more intimate than the hard forest floor with Red, Graham, and the king nearby.

She was not as delicately inclined in her sleep, half her body trapping him against the mattress with her leg and upper body splayed across him. Soft moans of contentment had filled his ears as they had in the cover of darkness touched and explored as they had rarely been afforded the opportunity.

"You're awake," she muttered, drawing herself closer to him. "You should be sleeping."

"You are quite bossy in the morning," he teased, not bothering to move. "Is this something I have to look forward to each morning, you declaring when it is appropriate to wake and carry on the duties of the day?"

She propped her head up on her hand and looked at him earnestly. "You must be up early on your ship? I have heard that sailors often rise before dawn."

"Aye, that is the life of a man at sea, but my crew tends to be on duty before me. Being a captain offers that privilege at least. Perhaps that is something we might use to our advantage when we take our voyage?"

She considered this as she drew her fingers down his chest. "I think Red might object."

"Perhaps or perhaps she might be more understanding than you have imagined." He shifted beneath her, groaning with those early morning tight muscles. "She is quite fair minded when she wants to be."

She dropped her head back down and sighed. "Can I not stay here forever?"

"I would not object, but I suppose your father and mother would. And your maid must already be scandalized if she has brought you breakfast and found your bed untouched."

Emma was about to tell him that she had left her bed downturned and the blankets rumpled when she heard the sentry nearest the gate calling out for the alarm. Soon after bells rang and shouts could be heard from all directions. Emma and Killian both jumped from the bed and hurried to the window.

"What are they bloody shouting about?" Killian asked, his eyes squinting into the dimly lit entry way. "I don't recognize that call."

"Someone…it is the alarm of an escape…" Emma reached for her dress, having slept in her undergarments rather than the gown from the night before. "I have to check on Henry."

Killian nodded, putting himself to rights too, including refastening his brace and attaching the hook to it. "I will go with you."

Giving up on trying to lace up her dress alone, Emma relied upon her magic to look more presentable. He was at her heels as she raced through the corridors toward the room where he son should be still asleep. Though his legs are longer than hers, she knew the layout better. Neither spoke of their worry that it was Rumpelstiltskin who had managed to escape, but the images of the impish grin and indifferent way he would wield his magic to the tune of maniacal laughter played in their minds.

The guard posted at the doorway to the corridor where all three of the boys slept was alert and at the ready. Emma paused only briefly. "He's…The boys are alright."

"Yes, your highness," he said, his eyes shifting to where others of his regiment were dashing off to answer the call of the alarm. "I have checked myself. The governess is inside."

Emma nodded mutely and pushed her way through the heavy door. Killian realized she only breathed out when she saw the sandy haired figure of her son sleeping there with one arm hanging off the bed and his legs drawn up as though he wished to be even smaller. She dropped at her son's side and kissed his temple gently so not to wake him. And while she said nothing aloud, Killian was almost certain that she said a silent prayer of thanks that her son was there with them still.

He approached slowly and knelt next to her, his handless arm at her back. "I will leave you with him and go see if your father might need my help in finding the Dark One. I have been on a quest to find him for some time and know his habits well."

"The Dark One?" the shaking voice of Johanna asked, emerging from the dark shadows of the room with her hands wringing in distress. "He has not escaped."

"Then who are the alarms for if not for a prisoner escaping?" Killian asked as Emma stared in horror at the woman who had helped to raise her. "There is no other who would be of that much danger."

Johanna hung her head a bit, not used to speaking so plainly or delivering news to one of the royals. "The former queen," she managed to say. "She was able to steal the dagger from the belfry where it was supposed to be protected. She was seen by the sentry riding away."

Emma pushed herself up to standing and took a step away from the bed. "Why? Why would she do that? The dagger is of very little use as more than a simple blade without the Dark One to control with it."

"I do not know, milady. I just do not know."


	37. Chapter 37

Killian propped the door open with his foot and waited as a line of short statured men, Red, Granny, and Graham entered the King and Queen's Solar where breakfast for the couple lay cooling. His breath caught in his throat as he watched Emma curl into her father's embrace, her face against the fox trim of his cloak. She had said so little upon learning of Regina's escape, her words measured against alarming her son or any of the other children in the nursery. He had been left to assure her that this would not threaten them in any way, promising to find Regina and bring her back for a suitable punishment.

"I'm going to talk to the Dark One," a visibly upset Snow said as she hoisted her quiver onto her shoulder. "He must have struck a deal with her and now we…" She seemed so small in comparison to the leather pouch of arrows, but everyone in the room knew she was masterful at archery. Her white gown with the yellow piping seemed to make her features glow like her namesake blanket of frozen delight.

"We don't know that," David said, stroking his daughter's hair one last time before releasing her in the direction of the pirate. While it was a small gesture, Killian was infinitely grateful that Emma's father might trust him that much to care for her. Emma went to Killian easily, ignoring protocol and wrapping herself around his torso without so much as an apology toward those in the room. "There could be a million reasons. And it is not safe to simply go off the handle at the Dark One. He will use our emotion to his advantage."

"What other explanation is there?" the Queen demanded, her voice shaking. The room was spacious for them, but it felt cramped with so many in attendance. Emma was not sure she had ever seen her parents accept courtiers, let alone trusted advisors of no standing to their private quarters. Perhaps only Red or Granny had ever sipped tea on the tufted seats by the fire. "She has the dagger, David. That dagger controls him. It holds all of the power of dark magic. If she was to harness that power…"

"Perhaps that is not her plan," Killian interrupted, feeling the suspicious ire of the royal couple's closest confidants. "She is likely trying to get her magic back, as has been her request all along. The dagger would be used for that."

One of the dwarfs, a sour faced man who had a beard not quite as white or long as many of the others, groused at Killian's observation. "You think that she simply wishes to snip the bonds of those cuffs? She wouldn't need to run away to do that, abandoning her husband and…" He fell quiet, probably lost for words over how to refer to Henry given the recent revelations.

"That would indicate that it is not a permanent absence," David said thoughtfully. He had yet to shave and a slight stubble was evident on his jaw, his eyes bleary from having been rousted early from his bed. "Whatever her motives, we cannot delay in our search for her. It is important that we find her before she has opportunity to enact her evil plans whatever they might be." Reaching for his wife's hand, he disbursed the group to different stations, instructing them that he was calling in the kingdom's scouts and soldiers for logistical support. "The dwarfs will inspect the underground tunnels to see if she might have taken those. Red, you and Graham start with the south forest to check for her there. Granny, I want you to set out with a few of the guards for the village to see if she has been seen."

Killian tightened his grip on the still silent Emma, hoping that whatever assignment the King might have for him would not separate him from her. He wanted and needed to help in any way that he could, but the idea of her being strong alone was not something he wanted to imagine. She brushed her face against his chest, her fingers making shapes against the lapel of his jacket. "And where would you have me, your highness?" he asked when the room began to empty.

The King gave him a measured nod of his head and waited. Before giving him an answer, he turned to his wife and gently pulled the quiver away from her. "We will deal with the Dark One, but not alone. We must handle other emergencies first."

"He must know where she is," Snow insisted, her high cheekbones red with anger as she solidly planted herself in front of her husband. "I will talk to him and make him…"

"She may have already used the dagger on him," Emma said, speaking up at last. "If I were her, I would. It would benefit her to make him unable to tell us of anything." She blinked up at Killian with a sad sort of grimace. "Perhaps we should check with Belle and Robin as to what they know?"

Snow placed her hands in a prayer like position. "I sent some of the staff already to check on them. I was afraid that Regina might have…well, Belle was in her suite and seemed unaware of the trouble. And Robin was beside himself that he had not known and was not there to stop her."

"Perhaps he might be well enough to answer some questions?" Killian queried, his bad arm around Emma's waist. Such a familiar position would not normally sit well in the company of the royal couple, yet he felt the need to hold her as she processed this betrayal. "While he might not have been consulted by her, he surely knows of her thoughts and plans."

"I will be visiting him directly," David explained, situating himself near the window that looked over the vegetable gardens. It was an odd view for him to have requested when he first took up residence in the palace his wife had grown up in as a child. Yet there was something comforting to him about the views that reminded him of a simpler time in his life with his mother on their farm. "We did need to talk to you both though." He paused to look questioningly at his wife.

Snow must have taken the hint, as she stepped forward and extended her hands toward them. Emma grasped mother's hand easily, but it took a moment before Killian realized she meant him too. Removing his hand from Emma's shoulder, he let Snow's fingers curl over his palm. "Elsa must be returned to her kingdom at once. A messenger arrived this morning before we even knew of Regina's departure. The army of the Southern Isles has established a formidable line near the mountains outside Arendelle. Hans and Anna are mobilizing the kingdom's forces now, but it is important that Elsa return to the throne."

"Of course," Emma said softly. "Her presence is clearly needed. I could see if my magic…"

Snow pursed her lips and shifted her eyes to Killian to see if the pirate might understand what she was suggesting. "The plan had been for you and the Captain to sail with her with Red as a chaperone. However, I am not sure that Red's presence is not needed more here than with you as a watch. So I wanted to see if you might be ready to sail sooner rather than later. Henry would be safer on the ship, as even at its strongest, Regina's magic is dulled over water." She dipped her head and let her shoulders slouch. "It would not seem proper for you two to be alone on such a trip, but I think with circumstances as they are…"

"I will see to it that the Jolly Roger is ready to set sail with the next tide, your majesty. Emma and the lad will be safe aboard, I assure you. I know that Emma has already set about a protection spell for the lad and it will be best, as you say, over the waters."

"I am sure that they will safe, Captain," Snow said, squeezing both their hands gently. "I do not mean to seem so worried about propriety and all that when Elsa is facing a kingdom at war and Henry could truly be in danger from Regina. In fact, we all could…I simply don't wish to add to all our problems with rumor and innuendo about Emma."

"I think we are well past the stage of people seeing me as chaste and pure," Emma said, her own free arm curled around Killian's waist. "Henry's existence is evidence enough of that. And while I do regret that I was with Baelfire, I don't regret my son being here."

"Nor should you," David spoke up, seeming to come back to the conversation from his station by the window. He paused to kiss his wife's temple. "There is a simple solution if you both would agree. It might even help Elsa, as one would not assume her to be aboard a pirate ship, especially one being used for a honeymoon."

Three lines appeared at the hilt of Emma's nose as she tried to decipher her father's cryptic words. "You don't mean…"

"You would give me your blessing to marry your daughter?" Killian asked at the same time, his own voice a higher pitch with the surprise. "I thought you had only recently pushed aside your misgivings of me to permit me to court Emma."

Emma huffed defiantly as she watched her parents exchange a look. "He does not need permission to court me. I am capable of making such decisions myself."

David smiled plaintively at his daughter and retreated a few steps to the fireplace where the family portrait hung. Touching the frame of it, he lamented mournfully. "It is not my decision, nor is it even my hope and wish. However, there are benefits to it. The two of you sailing off on a honeymoon with Henry would certainly not draw the attention of any army or force. We could simply disguise Elsa as a servant for Emma and that would be that. And while I am sure Snow would prefer more time to organize a wedding of the caliber Emma's position and station require, it would be best done before Regina's presence is missed outside of the castle."

Emma sputtered a bit, her soft blue gown feeling tight as she tried to remember all the reasons that this was a bad idea. "But Papa, I don't…" She broke off the sentence, looking up again at Killian with worry. "We have not spoken of marriage beyond general terms. I only mean there has been no proposal."

"I would have proposed already if I thought you ready to hear it, love," Killian admitted, dropping his hand from Snow's. "Perhaps this is a bit rushed, but it would afford us a good cover under which to travel with the Queen and the lad. Do you think it safe to bring him aboard though? If Regina were to find us, there would be no place to run or hide from her attack."

"Do you think this is wise, David?" Snow asked, squeezing her daughter's hand again before dropping it and embracing her husband. "People might not…"

"They will accept it eventually," David interrupted. "Emma will be queen someday. The people of this kingdom have loved you and your family's line forever. They will extend that to her as well. And God willing that will be far in the future, long past any wedding haste that we incur now. I see nothing wrong with it so long as Emma and the Captain are of like mind."

Emma dipped her head against Killian's shoulder, her mind clearly racing with thoughts. It was Killian who spoke though. "I would be honored to marry Emma, but I cannot see doing it this way. It would need to be her decision out of love not obligation to keep the gossip at bay or to come up with some plausible explanation. Perhaps it might be easier if I were to ferry Queen Elsa back by myself. Emma and the lad could remain here where there are plenty of guards and people to watch over her."

Already nodding, David linked his arm with his wife's. "If you think that best, I will see to it that…"

"No," Snow interrupted. "I don't like the idea of this either, but I think it is something to consider. "Emma and Killian are in love and that is clear to anyone having met them or seen them together. It is not as though a wedding would be that far off anyway."

Killian felt Emma stiffen in his embrace. "Perhaps I should talk to Emma alone, if you don't mind." Still holding her, he turned to go when Emma waved her hand in front of them and the dissipated into a cloud of smoke.

"Sorry, but it is easier than finding a place," she said. The morning sun was barely up over a rise where seedlings were growing into what would someday be proud oaks. The tiny pond where they had skated weeks earlier sat still in the windless morning light. "Killian, please pay them no mind. They are of course concerned about my reputation and the crown, but I care for little of that. I am not ashamed to love you or for anyone to know that the man who holds my heart is not of royal blood but a pirate."

He swallowed, looking down at the top of her blonde head. She had not tied her hair up in the intricate braids she usually wore. Instead it hung loose around her shoulders and glimmered as the sunlight bounced off the soft waves that framed her gentle face. "Emma, I am glad to hear you say that, love. I would wish that you were happy in your choice to love me. But I will admit your father's suggestion seems to have left you a bit cold. Could it be that you are regretting your association with me?"

She pulled back suddenly and stared at him with a cold anger that seemed misplaced given the conversation. "Never," she said with a huff. "I've never doubted my love for you."

"Nor have I doubted mine for you," he told her tenderly. "I have no reason not to love you, as you are more than I could have ever dared hope for in 10,000 lifetimes." His lips brushed her forehead. "And while I would prefer to have proposed to you of my own design, I will drop to my knee now and beg for your hand, my love. For it doesn't matter when or how in my book; I only wish to be your husband and support you and Henry in any way that I can."

Her left hand lifted up and her fingers covered his full lips. "Can you tell me that you are not asking out of pity for me?" He went to speak, but she press her fingers firmer against his mouth. "Can you promise that it is that you love me and not that you think I am incapable of fighting off Regina?"

He paused to make sure her list of demands was complete. "My love, I have no doubt that I would have found myself asking sooner rather than later. There is no doubt in my mind that I wish to make a home with you, a life with you and your son. I was holding off because the lad deserves to get to know his mother without the impediment of a man such as myself. But there is no doubt that I have always had designs on marrying you, even when I was foolish enough to think you a peasant with a son instead of a brother."

Her shoulders sagged a bit in relief as she cupped her fingers around the leather lapel of his coat. "I love you, Killian. I want to marry you. And I will try to think of all the good reasons that we should do that now." She smiled tentatively. "It will be less of a hassle for you. Mother might not even make you wear something uncomfortable or demand that father knight you." She sighed. "And as your wife I won't have to think of excuses to stay away from you so that the kingdom will not be shocked.

Letting go of her waist, he lifted his hand and touched the tip of her nose. "There are many good reasons for us to wed," he teased. "If I were to list them all, I might miss the opportunity to marry you at all. So I will simply say that I will think it is good fortune instead of a trial." He reached into the inside pocket of his coat and pulled out a tissue wrapped item. Nodding to her in gesture, he waited for her to unfold the paper. "I got that for you while we were writing letters, love. While I have no ring other than those I wear, I would be honored to give that to you today."

"I don't need a ring, Killian," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "If you are sure?"

"I am," he told her. Moving his had closer to her, he let her peel back the layers of paper and stare at the lavalier in the shape of an anchor. It was probably not worth that much or especially precious, but to her she saw nothing more than his heart in his hand. "It was quite pretty and reminded me of you."

She wet her lips as she looked at it thoughtfully. "Do I weigh you down as an anchor?"

He had expected her answer. "No, darling, you don't. You keep me steady and help me stay on my path. You pull me to you when nothing has had that effect. You offer me a steadying force beyond what my chaotic life has ever seen. You are strong and stable and not prone to drifting."

"I will wear it proudly," she said, lifting the delicate chain and letting it drip through her fingers. "Perhaps I should save it to wear during our wedding? There is a saying about needing something new."

He closed his hand over hers. "It will be beautiful on you, love. You will make it so."

Lifting up on her toes, she kissed him softly. "We should go back and see to the preparations for the voyage and if there is word of where Regina ran. But there is one thing, Killian. One thing missing."

"And what is that?" he asked.

"You have not asked me yet."

He chuckled, his hand still extended toward her. "We will have to rectify this," he told her, wiggling his fingers. "As I said, I was not fully prepared with a ring and a box of trinkets to impress you, but perhaps you might like to wear one of mine until a better one might be fashioned or found?" Suddenly he pulled his hand away and reached into his shirt to pull out a silver chain with a ring dangling from it. Weather and time worn, the silver metal was smoothed to a low gleam and a red stone sat in the center with a dull sparkle in the early sun. "Better yet. This is more special of a ring than any that I wear on my fingers."

She was quiet as he deftly slid it off the chain and held it to the light for closer inspection. "It was my brother's a bauble of some relative or another. It was said by him to be charmed, the reason that I have always had a penchant for survival, I suppose."

"And you wish for me to wear it?" she asked, her eyes more in tune with the sad downturn of his mouth as he mentioned his brother than the ring he was holding. "If it is that precious to you…"

"You are far more precious, my love." Gripping it tightly in his palm, he dropped to one knee, adjusting the length of his coat with his hook as he did. "I haven't a speech prepared or all that much to offer, but I want to do this right."

"Killian," she said, smiling down at him.

"Shhh, now. This is my turn to talk, love. For you see, I have a very important job of proposing to the crown princess. And she will not like to suffer for any fools making a mockery of such a thing."

"Of course," she answered, suppressing the laughter that threatened to bubble out. "Get on with it now."

"Emma," he said, his head tilted back and his hand over hers with the ring pressed into her palm too. "I should like you to know that I have every bit of serious intention toward you. For I have loved you for so long as I have known you, finding you to be full of life and laughter, wit and kindness, stubbornness and intelligence that is so much a part of your beauty." She breathed out a laugh at him calling her stubborn, but let him continue. "And I should have you know that I would not do well without you to keep me on the narrow path to earning your love and respect too. So I must ask you or risk losing my mind and heart to dreams of what could have been, Princess Emma of Misthaven, will you marry me?"

The smile that fractured her face was brilliant as she dropped to her knees with no worry for her pale blue dress on the dew covered grass. Letting him slip the ring onto her finger, she lifted her hands not to admire it but to frame his face as she kissed him and for a moment the threats seemed far away.


End file.
